The Bequest
by jane0904
Summary: Next in the Mal/Freya 'verse. On the way to their next job, Mal and the Serenity crew get some sad news, and decide to make a little detour. But what do six girls and a map have to do with it? NOW COMPLETE but more to come. Merry Christmas to all!
1. Chapter 1

"This ain't good." Jayne tested the ropes tying him again, but they still wouldn't budge. If they hadn't taken his knife, he'd have been able to cut them loose, but right now he was totally incapacitated.

"You think you could state something more than the blindingly obvious?" Mal asked, his own efforts at getting free only cutting into his wrists, making the rope slick.

"Just saying, Mal."

"Well, don't."

"Figure the girls are out there?"

"Hope not."

"Yeah, me too, but you think they are?"

"Probably." Mal squirmed, trying to get his hand out of the wet bonds.

"You're cutting yourself to ribbons," Jayne said, glancing over.

"Yeah, well, don't see you doing no better."

"If'n I could get to ya, maybe we could do something."

"Somehow I've a notion that's unlikely." Mal leaned back against the mine support he was tied to.

Jayne eyed the barrels of gunpowder. "Ya know, they could've been more considerate. Leaving that stuff so close."

Mal turned his head. "You think?"

"I mean, it ain't like we're gonna –"

"Shh." Mal tilted his head.

"What?"

"Listen."

"Don't hear …" He stopped, his body totally still. "Shit."

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Think so."

They both turned towards the slight sound, a susurration that barely registered.

From out in the darkness of the tunnel, sparking like a damn firework, the flame raced along the fuse, splitting as it headed for the barrels.

"Shit."

---

_Six days earlier …_

It had been nearly a week since the operation, and Freya was healing fast. She and Mal had been using their temporary quarters again, but right now Simon was just finishing his latest check up.

"I wish I could bottle your body's ability," the young man said, shaking his head at her as she carefully sat up on the medbed. "I could make a fortune."

"Apart from the rest of us getting over the slings and arrows that outrageous fortune throws at us once in a while," Mal added, smiling at his wife.

"Well, if I knew how, I'd tell you." Freya held out her hand, and Mal helped her stand up.

"If you feel any excess pain, experience dizziness –" Simon began, then grinned. "I think you know the drill."

She smiled. "I have a pretty good idea." She picked up the stick from against the bed. "I really thought I'd never be having to use this again."

"Just a while longer, and you won't have to."

"Promise?"

Simon sobered a little. "Well –"

"It's okay, Simon," Freya said, putting her hand on his arm. "I know it's a case of wait and see. But I'm doing my best to control things."

"I know. And keep doing the exercises whenever you get the chance."

"_They_ hurt."

"Has to be done."

"Yeah," Mal put in. "But it's me she shouts at after."

"Go. Go away. Let me get on with my work." Simon made shooing motions out of the door.

Mal grinned and stepped aside to let his wife go first when the com stuttered.

"Mal, got Pickett wanting to talk to you." Hank's voice filtered tinnily into the infirmary.

"Ain't that man got nothing better to do than chivvy us along?" Mal grumbled. He thumbed the response button. "I'll be right there. Tell him to hold his horses."

"Horses. Holding. Right."

Mal looked at Freya. "You gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. I'm going to get something to eat."

"Hungry again?" He shook his head. "You're eating me out of ship and home."

She pushed him gently. "Better not keep Pickett waiting."

He kissed her gently, then hurried out.

She followed more slowly, Simon at her elbow.

"Are you sure you should be climbing the stairs?" he asked. "That's a bit more than I had envisaged."

"Simon, you know how I get if I have to stay in one room."

He remembered all right, when she was confined to quarters during the early stages of her pregnancy. "I don't think I could take the verbal abuse again," he admitted.

"So you let me get on." She leaned over and kissed his cheek before heading up towards the dining area.

---

River emptied out the last of the sacks of soil into the bins, then pushed her hair out of her face, leaving a streak of earth on her cheek.

"What are you doing, _mei-mei_?" Simon asked, leaning through the door to the storage locker.

"Making my garden." She pushed again at a recalcitrant strand.

"Here, let me." He stepped inside and clipped her hair back.

"Thanks."

"Shouldn't Jayne be helping you?"

"He did. He set up the lights for me." She indicated the metal frames either side of the room. "This bit's mine."

"Where did you get the soil?"

"Lazarus. Jayne did that for me too."

Simon ran his lean fingers through the earth, letting it trickle from his palm. "What are you going to grow?"

"Everything."

He laughed softly. "I don't think there's enough room for everything."

"Then an equitable selection." She smiled at him. "Some flowers, but mostly fresh vegetables. And strawberries."

Now her brother grinned. "Kaylee will love you forever."

"She already does."

"What about water? Sometimes we're not exactly awash with it."

She pointed to another sack, this time filled with greyish granules. "Water retaining material, and then there will be covers … I estimate moisture loss at only 5%, possibly 5.3 depending on the ambient temperature."

Simon put his arm around her. "I think this is a great idea."

"Therapy. Stops me from killing everyone."

Simon stared at her, then raised his eyebrows. "If you're going to say things like that, at least _sound_ as if you don't mean them."

She grinned at him. "Who says I don't?"

"I do." His lips twitched. "You're my sister. I know you. If you were intending to murder us in our beds you'd at least have the courtesy to let us know first."

"I'll post a sign."

"Good." He looked down at the dark earth. "Do you need a hand?"

"You'll get dirty."

"For you, anything."

"I thought you only ever said that to Kaylee."

"Two of my three best girls," he admitted. "I'd do anything for any of you."

River laughed and handed him a small trowel. "I need it flat."

"Flat it is." He chuckled and started to work.

---

Mal glared into the screen. "Pickett, I told you we'll be with you in about –"

"It ain't that I'm wavin' you about. Reilly's dead."

"Meagan Reilly?" Mal's brow furrowed. He thought she was long gone.

"No. Lucas Reilly."

"Old Ironguts? I figured he was too tight to die."

"Seems like maybe it finally caught up with him."

"When did this happen?"

"Near a month."

"So he's buried by now."

"If he ain't he's stinkin' up the place."

"You need to show a little more respect there," Mal said, his voice taking on the Sergeant's tone he used to use.

"Why? He never did."

"That's true."

"Anyhows, there's a wake for him on Mead, day after tomorrow. Ain't too far from your current location, is it?"

"'Bout a day's ride."

"So I figured we'd all be there. Those as could."

"What about that job of yours?"

"Coupla days ain't gonna make that much difference."

"You gotten hold of many?"

"A few. Monty, a'course, and Harry, then there's Dwyer, Lann Chen, couple more. There's some still to get back to me."

"Are there that many left?"

"Fewer year by year, Mal. You may have got us through the war, but the peace keeps knocking us off."

Mal suppressed a sigh. "We'll be there."

"Good. Knew I could count on old Sarge."

"Not so much on the old."

Pickett smiled. "See you in the world," he said, saluting lazily and breaking contact.

Hank stirred at the back of the bridge. "New destination?"

"Yeah. Mead." Mal shook himself. "You find us the best route, then come to the galley and I'll let everyone know the change of plan." He strode off the bridge.

Hank stared after him before sitting back down in his chair. There was a tale to tell, that was for sure, and made a mental note to make sure he was around when it was told.

---

"A wake?" Jayne glared at Mal. "You mean someone's dead?"

"An old friend of ours," Zoe said quietly.

"So we're going to a party."

"A celebration of the man, I'm thinking," Mal said, sitting down in his chair.

"Will there be lots of drinking?" Simon asked.

"Probably."

"I'll make sure I have a good supply of strong painkillers on hand."

Mal smiled slightly. "Good idea, doc."

"Somehow I can't quite get my head around Reilly being gone." Zoe was still surprised.

"He was a good man."

"That he was, sir." she nodded. "Although personally I thought he was too mean to die. Having to pay out for a funeral and such."

Laughter bubbled out of Mal's throat. "Exactly what I said to Pickett. And I know what you mean. Never did see a man so intent on taking care of his pennies."

"Think he was worth anything?"

"Seems like we're gonna find out." Mal looked across at his pilot. "We got a course set?"

"Nothing but a few hours." Hank glanced from one to the other. "So this man was a friend?"

Zoe nodded, her hands lightly clasped in front of her. "Lucas Reilly. Not one of our original platoon, but he kinda got tagged on after New Casmir."

Mal nodded. "Remember that time on … gorramit, what was that moon called … the one with the little temple that had those damn bells wouldn't shut up."

"Shaulang."

"That was it. Now why the hell couldn't I remember that? Think I'm getting old?"

"No, sir."

"Somehow, I think you gotta say that."

"Wouldn't say it if it weren't true."

Mal smiled at Freya, who squeezed his hand. "Anyway he found this stash of something he swore was hallucinogenic weed, and started to smoke it. I thought he was gonna die from the noise he was making. Singing and shouting, calling out to the Alliance to come and try and take him. _Ai ya_, I'm surprised I didn't shoot him myself." He shook his head. "Can't believe the old buzzard is gone. Kinda thought he'd live forever."

"You know him?" Hank asked Freya.

"_Of_ him. I don't think I actually ever met the man," Freya replied.

Mal put in, "And if she had, she'd remember."

"How come?"

"'Bout seven feet tall and almost as wide," Zoe said. "That man was _big_."

"I have never seen anyone put away as much food as he could," Mal laughed.

"More'n Jayne?" Hank asked in surprise, grinning at the mercenary.

"Let's just say I wouldn't have wanted to be around if they'd got into a contest. The fall-out could've been fatal."

"Hey!" Jayne complained.

Hank laughed. "Sounds like a real character."

"Oh, he was." Mal sighed. "Just can't believe he's dead."

"Well, you can get to say goodbye anyway," the pilot said.

"Think everyone'll want to come to the wake?" Zoe asked her captain.

"Up to them. I'm just glad we're in the vicinity. Most times an old soldier dies, there ain't no-one around to hold their hands."


	2. Chapter 2

Mead was a border moon with little going for it apart from a healthy – or possibly unhealthy – interest in gambling. Everything was bet on, from the outcome of a horse race at the large stadium, purpose built outside town, or how slow the traffic would clear after the latest accident at the main crossroads. The main town was like a tarnished jewel sitting in the middle of nothing, staining the evening with its crassness. Bright lights glittered, advertising various wares, shows and prostitutes, so much that it even made Jayne's fingers itch.

"It looks … fun," Kaylee said, her face unsure.

"It ain't," the big man said. "Last time I was here I got fleeced."

"That wouldn't be hard," Simon commented, looking out of the bridge window as Hank brought them in to land. "From what I've read Mead attracts some of the lowest forms of life."

"You suggesting that's what I am?"

"If I were I wouldn't just suggest it."

Jayne just glared at him.

"Well, we're not here to have fun, people," Mal said, coming up behind them. "We're here to say goodbye to an old friend."

"Why was your pal here?" Hank asked.

"Betting. Reilly just loved it. All through the war he'd lay odds where he'd get hit next. Usually winning, too, which was the scarier part."

"Our lieutenant put him on report once for sticking his backside up above the trench we were in, just to see if he could make another 100," Zoe added from the co-pilot's chair.

"Two flies walking across a dead man was the one I think I hit him for," Mal said thoughtfully.

"Laid him out," Zoe agreed.

"Broke my hand doing it."

"But he respected you from that moment, sir."

The pair of them shared a look as Serenity settled into her dock without a discernible bump, and for a moment everyone else felt excluded.

"Time to get moving," Mal said. "The main event ain't until tomorrow, so me, Frey and Zoe'll be back some point to –"

"You?" Hank looked surprised. "I thought we were all going."

"You didn't know him."

"Neither did Freya."

"Yeah, but she fought in the war –"

"So that means we can't come and say goodbye to a friend of yours?" Simon asked. "I'm not sure that's fair. And we do know a number of people who will be there."

Mal was surprised. "I thought you'd all want to go do your own thing."

"Don't you want us to come?" Hank asked.

"I –" Mal stopped. "It'll be boring," he protested, but only mildly. "Old soldiers talking about old battles and battle wounds."

"I didn't fight in no war," Jayne said. "But if'n there's free booze, I'm in."

"I see River hasn't managed to change you that much," Simon said dryly. He looked back at Mal. "But the point is we'd all like to come."

"Besides, there might be tales told we can blackmail you with in the future," Hank added.

Mal stared at them then turned to Zoe. "Do I have a hope in hell of telling 'em not to come without ordering them to stay put?"

"Not a one, sir." She smiled. "If it's that bad they can always come back."

"Don't try and cheer me up," he said sighing. He looked round at the expectant faces of his crew. "You get rolled anywhere, don't come complaining to me. Just remember I told you to stay on the ship."

Hank sprang to his feet. "Aye aye, captain!"

---

"I'm not surprised River decided to stay on board to babysit," Simon said, shaking his head. "This place is …" He couldn't think of the right word to describe it as they walked slowly along the main concourse, heading for the hall where the wake was to be held.

"It's all flash," Mal explained, shaking his head at yet another young man trying to get his attention. "Underneath it all it's just the same as any other border planet with delusions of grandeur."

"So why is it here? So far away from everything?"

"The mines."

"Mines?"

"The place is riddled with them. Half a dozen different ores were dug out, soon as the moon got terraformed," Mal went on. "But the mines got used up pretty quickly, and there wasn't much else a body can do when you've got no place else to go. Alliance wasn't any use, and most folks were on the edge of starving to death until someone decided to open a gambling place."

"A casino?" Simon asked, surprised.

"I don't think I'd call it that." Zoe smiled. "More a single room with four tables, from what I hear. But the house took a rake of the money, legalised various other disgusting habits, and since Mead is one of the few inhabitable planets this side of the system, ships kept dropping by. Money started to come in, and they reinvested. Kept building. And it looks to me as if they didn't know when to stop."

"We dropped off some cargo couple of times," Mal put in, "but there's something makes me feel kinda like I want to take a shower after walking these streets, so we tended not to stay."

"Long enough to lose me my money," Jayne grumbled.

"Well, that was up to you," Mal replied.

"Was Reilly one of the ones who came here on purpose?" Kaylee asked, snuggled close in Simon's protection.

"He was born here," Mal said, surprising them all. "Other than that, I never really understood what Reilly wanted."

"I don't think he knew, sir," Zoe said quietly.

"And now you've come to say goodbye." Hank smiled. "And to see old friends."

"Yeah. Old friends." It amazed Mal that he was actually looking forward to meeting up with them again. He glanced at Freya, and wasn't at all surprised to see her smiling at him, having picked the thought out of his mind.

"It shouldn't take a man dying to get people together," she said softly as she hobbled along. "But that's the way it goes sometimes."

Mal stopped. "Look, why don't you take a rest? Or better yet, go back to Serenity. We can –"

"I'm fine." She touched his cheek. "Although I might take a breather. Just for a few seconds." She rested both hands on her stick. "You go on ahead."

"No, we'll wait."

"Go. I'll only be a few steps behind."

Mal turned to the young doctor. "Simon …"

"We'll stay with her," he promised.

"Yeah, me too," Jayne said. "The way the doc looks someone might just mistake him for one of these boy whores."

Simon glared at him, but Kaylee got in first, hitting him on the pad of his arm.

"Simon don't look like no boy whore," she said. "And, 'sides, I think they're kinda pretty." She smiled at one of the young men leaning on the wall.

"Don't," her husband said quickly. "He'll think you're encouraging him."

"He don't need no encouragement," Jayne chuckled.

"You go," Freya said again. "I'll keep them out of trouble."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe." Mal glanced down the street. "It's just up there, down the next turning on the left."

"We'll find it," she assured him.

He grinned at her, leaning in to press his lips to hers. "Don't be long."

"We won't."

Mal and Zoe strode off together, the captain and his first mate.

---

The hall was in the older part of town, one of the original buildings put up when people were civic and God-fearing, and before they began to worship the acquisition of money, preferably somebody else's. The outside showed a double row of windows, and above the door it said 'Mead Town Hall'.

A large woman in a heavy brown coat was about to go in.

Mal grinned at Zoe and walked forwards. "They let anyone walk around unmolested nowadays, it seems."

The woman turned.

"Mal Reynolds!" Hilary Dwyer held out her arms and walked forward, enveloping him in a huge embrace.

"Hil. Good to see you," Mal managed to gasp out. "Thought you were dead for sure."

"Heard _you_ were." She let go and stepped back. "More'n once. Seems you got more lives than a cat."

"Good people with me, Hil. That's all."

Hil looked past him. "Zoe? Is that …" She couldn't believe her eyes. "You're still flying with him?"

Zoe hugged the older woman. "For the moment," she agreed.

"And you're carrying?" Hil had felt the bulge between them.

"I am."

"How long?"

"A few months yet."

Hil grinned. "Let me know when it's born and I'll send you something for it. Maybe some booties. Get someone to knit 'em for me."

Pickett strolled up. "See you've been renewing old acquaintances," he said, grinning widely. "Mal," he nodded in greeting. "Zoe."

"Where is everyone else?" Mal asked.

"Inside. It looks like Reilly knew he was going, made these arrangements. He hired the hall, paid for the booze, everything. We've got the place for a couple of days."

"Booze?" Hil's eyes lit up.

"Reilly hasn't stinted. He seems t've got every kinda alcohol you can imagine." He laughed. "And lots of it."

"He must have been really sick," Mal considered. "Spending good coin on the likes of us."

"Hell, I don't care if there's drinks around." Hil clapped her hands together, rubbing them in anticipation. "Lead me to it."

"Hold on for a second, there, Hil," Mal said. "Just waiting for the others."

"Others?"

"My crew."

Her eyes narrowed. "They Browncoats too?"

"They're my crew."

Hil backed down. "Then they're good as." She smiled. "More the merrier, long as they don't drink everything before I get to it."

"Somehow I doubt that," Pickett said. "And they're here."

Hil watched Mal turn, taking a step towards a tall woman with a stick. The way he was fussing over her made the other woman make an inspired leap. "This your wife?" she asked.

"That she is," Mal said proudly. "Hil, this is Freya. Frey, Hil Dwyer."

"Heard you got hitched. Didn't really believe it at first, not from the tales you used to tell, but …" She held out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Freya smiled back and they shook. "Tales?"

"Make your hair curl."

"Oh, those ones." Frey glanced at her husband. "Hil, I think we have a lot to talk about."

"No you don't," Mal interjected swiftly. "And don't you go telling stories I can't repudiate, Hil."

Hil laughed. "I wouldn't be repeating anything you hadn't already said."

"That's as may be but –"

A man bustled out of the hall. "Dammit, Mal, ain't you ever gonna get inside so we can have a drink?"

Harry Reynolds slapped his cousin on the back.

Mal tried to get air back into his lungs for the second time in five minutes and grinned. "You're looking better than the last time I saw you," he said, gripping Harry's arm. He didn't add _after Tetris, when we took Vinnie home to be buried._

"Well, it's been a coupla years, Mal."

"I guess it has."

Harry turned to the others, "But I see we're all still living. Good to know." He waved generally, then stared. "Zoe? You pregnant?"

"I am." She looked at him as if daring him to say something.

"Ah … that's good?"

"Sure is," Hank said, putting his arm around her.

"Yours, I take it?"

"Yep."

Harry grinned suddenly, taking years off him. "Congratulations. Both of you." His eyes lit on Simon and Kaylee. "And I guess your little'un'll be not so little anymore."

"She's nearly three," Kaylee said proudly. "Her name's Bethany."

"Hey, that's great. Where is she? I bet she's as beautiful as her momma."

Kaylee blushed a little, smiling widely, and Simon said, "She's back at the ship. Hopefully getting ready for bed, but somehow I doubt it."

Harry laughed. "I know what you mean." He looked at Mal. "And your little one? Guess must be almost the same age."

"Our son's nearly a year," Mal said.

"A … but you were –" He looked from Mal to Freya.

"There was an accident," Freya said quietly. "I didn't …she died."

Mal took hold of her hand and squeezed it gently.

"Oh, hell, I'm sorry." Harry looked stricken. "I didn't know."

"No way you could," Mal said. "But Ethan's a fine boy. You should come back to the ship later. He'd like to meet his uncle."

"I ain't really …" Harry considered. "Actually, what the hell am I?"

"Wasting good drinking time, far as I can see," Hil put in. "Come on." She put her arm around Freya. "And you can tell me just what kinda man our little Mal has grown into."

Mal watched, somewhat uncomfortably, as they walked into the hall.

---

There were more people than even Mal had expected, and the large hall was bustling. Anyone who had ever known Reilly seemed to be there, and a hell of a lot wore brown coats. He was glad he had his own on as he was buffeted by cigar smoke, music and conversations. Waylaid by a number of acquaintances, including Monty, he lost track of the rest of his crew, but found a drink in his hand and bruises forming on his back from being slapped on it so often.

At least Hil hit him on the arm.

"What's that for?" Mal asked, flicking the spilled drink off his hand.

"You not telling me who your wife is."

"She's Frey."

"Yeah. Freya Nordstrom. Harry just filled me in. Mal, she's almost as famous as you."

"I ain't famous, Hil."

"You are in some circles. So's she. Even those that weren't at Dhu Khang've heard of her."

"Hil, she's my wife. The mother of my son. And I captain a Firefly. Whatever we were before, the war's long done. Those people we used to be … they don't exist any more."

"Then what're you doing here?"

"I _was _enjoying a drink."

Hil sighed. "You're crazy, Mal," she said, throwing her arm around him. "But I guess you always were." She glanced around. "There might come a time when we have to talk. Seriously. About the colour we're both wearing."

"And we'd lose, Hil. Like last time." He too looked around, making sure they weren't overheard. "I know about the rumours. Every so often one comes up about a new uprising, about people massing arms. But that's all they are. Rumours. The Alliance are too strong, got their fingers too far out."

"That's what some people thought last time."

"And look where it got us."

"You saying you don't believe in the cause any longer?"

"I believe in freedom. That ain't gonna change. But I believe in family too."

"And if it comes? Threatens your family?"

Mal bit back the response he wanted to give. About how he knew more about it than she did, about the men behind the scenes who orchestrated things, about the children like River, about the whole rutting business on Miranda, and the people trying to control the Reavers … "We fight, we'll lose, Hil. It won't be glorious, like you seem to remember. It'll be hard, bloody and pointless. The Alliance have things …" He stopped, seeing the disappointment on her face. "Hil, I have a wife and child. I want more kids. That's what's important to me right now."

She still pressed. "And? If it does happen?"

He sighed. "I'll defend them, Hil. Like you damn well know I would."

She nodded, apparently satisfied. "Come on," she said. "I think I'd better buy you another drink."

"It's free, Hil."

"Well, it's the thought that counts." She looked towards the small band playing in the corner, and her face fell. "Oh, God."

"What?"

"Monty."

Mal followed her gaze. The big man had stepped up onto the dais, and was stroking his soup-catcher.

"Can I have your attention," he called. "Seems to me this party needs livening up a bit. So, in memory of old Ironguts, I think it's time we got a sing song going. Like we used to back in the day."

There was a mixture of groaning and cheering.

"You go to it!" Harry shouted.

"I intend to," Monty agreed. "And this one's for Reilly …"

Hil covered her ears. "Oh, God," she murmured again.

---

The songs had got more maudlin as the night, and the booze, progressed. One by one Serenity's crew began to stroll home, even Jayne having enough, until only Mal and Zoe were left.

"Where's Frey?" he asked, looking around somewhat blearily.

"She left, sir. About two hours ago."

"Left?"

"She said you weren't to come to bed if you were in a drunken state. Remember?"

Mal half-closed his eyes. "Uh … kinda. Was that before or after Monty started telling those damn stories?"

"After. I think she heard two of them, and decided that was two too many."

Mal grinned. "Probably for the best. There's stuff Monty knows about me I don't want her to hear." That and the fact that there had been far too many toasts to fallen comrades.

"There's stuff about you _I_ don't want to hear."

He peered at her. "Are you being insubordinate, Zo?"

"Probably."

"And you ain't even drinking."

"Not in my condition, sir." She stroked her belly.

"You know, they do say a single drink ain't gonna harm any little ones."

"I don't think Hank would approve."

"Where is he?"

"Gone home. They've all gone home, Mal."

He looked up sharply. "What've I done wrong?" he asked.

"Sir?"

"You only ever call me Mal when I've done something stupid."

"Just getting in ahead of time, sir."

He relaxed back. "Just so long as it's that. Just so long …" His eyes closed and he started to snore gently.

She smiled. He looked like a little boy when he was asleep. Admittedly, a little boy who'd been caught out doing something he really shouldn't, but …

"Zoe." Hank had sidled back into the hall.

"Hey."

"You coming to bed?"

"I don't know …" She looked down at her captain.

"He'll be fine," Hank insisted. "Wake up in the morning with a hell of a hangover, but he'll be fine."

"I should stay. Everyone else –"

"Is either dead drunk like Mal, or on their way." He looked around the bodies on the floor, and held out his hand. "Come on. You shouldn't really be sleeping down there with them."

She let him lift her to her feet. "Is this what you're going to do for me?" she asked. "Bring me home when I'm drunk?"

"Are you?"

"Not even a little."

He grinned. "That's my girl. But, to answer your question, yes. I will bring you home drunk. Drunk, sober, screaming, bleeding … although I'd rather you didn't go too much on the last one."

"Then that's fine."

"You gonna do the same for me?"

"I'll think about it."

"Just for that I won't be making love to you tonight."

Zoe grabbed a handful of his ass. "Really?"

He groaned.

---

"Sir."

Someone was shaking him, and it hurt. "Gorramit, you keep doing that and I'm gonna shoot you."

"Mal, can't you tell your girl to quieten down?" Kilburn groaned.

"I'm not his girl."

"No," Mal said. "She doesn't shout at me like this."

"Yes she does and I'm not shouting." Zoe crouched down. "I presume you're dying."

"Figuring I was gonna join Reilly in the great beyond," Mal admitted. He still hadn't managed to pry his eyes open.

"Reilly got cremated, Mal," Pickett called.

"Then I think I'll pass. Got hell enough to look forward to without goin' early."

"I think Freya'd have something to say about that." Zoe held out two small white pills. "She sent you these."

"Uh?" He finally unglued his eyes. "If'n she's trying to poison me, you would tell me first." He peered into his first mate's face. "Wouldn't you?"

"I'd seriously consider it, sir."

"You got anything to take them with?"

"We got booze, Mal," Monty said next to him.

Mal shuddered. "I'll take 'em dry." He lifted them from Zoe's cool palm and threw them into his mouth, swallowing hard.

"What it is to have a woman that loves ya," Monty murmured, turning over.

"Yeah, it's something special." Mal closed his eyes again.

"No, sir, you can't go back to sleep."

"Why not?"

"Because there's a man here to talk to you. About Reilly's will."

"His what?"

"His last will and testament."


	3. Chapter 3

Mal walked towards Serenity, his mind buzzing, not just with the hangover, but with the contents of the will. The thought uppermost in his mind was that, if Reilly hadn't already been dead, he'd have killed him.

"Sir," Zoe began. "Is this a good idea?"

"You got a better one?"

"We could always get them rooms in the town."

"What with? We didn't have the coin to keep them where they were."

"But on board?"

"I'm open to suggestions."

"I'll try to think of some, sir."

The Firefly came into view, and they continued in silence for a moment.

"Zoe, are you laughing?"

"No, sir."

"'Cause if you're laughing I ain't above making pregnant woman clean out the septic vat for a month."

"I think my doctor might disapprove, sir."

"It ain't funny!"

"Actually, sir, I'm just imagining Freya's face."

"I don't think you're going to have to imagine for that long," Mal said, sighing heavily.

"I wondered when you'd be getting back," Freya smiled, standing on the middle catwalk as Mal and Zoe stepped into the cargo bay. "I thought we might …" She stopped as six young women filed in behind them. "Mal, I think you're being followed."

"Mmn?" He looked up at her, then glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, yeah."

"Passengers?"

"Not exactly."

"Oh?" She started slowly down the stairs. "So, what, you came over all insane and hired six new members of the crew? All girls?"

"Ain't crew neither."

Freya gazed at him critically, reaching the bay floor. "So what are they?"

"They kinda … belong to me."

His wife's eyes opened a little wider, glancing at Zoe then back to her husband. "Would you mind running that by me again?"

"They belong to me. They're Reilly's … bequest."

"His …" Freya stared at the girls, not one of them older than Kaylee. "You mean he owned them?"

"No, no," Mal said quickly. "They're his daughters."

"They're what?!"

"Please, Frey, don't shout." Mal squeezed the bridge of his nose.

"What the hell have you agreed to, Mal?"

"Nothing." He sighed. "Well, not … much."

Freya glared at him, then realised the girls were all watching her. "Well, I … where are they going to sleep?"

"They can use the guest rooms. Double up. I figure they're used to that." He tried to smile, but it hurt too much.

"Then … we'd better get them settled in."

"I'll do that," Zoe said quickly. "If you'd like to follow me …"

In silence the six girls picked up their bags and did as they were told.

Freya waited until they were out of earshot. "Mal, what the hell is going on?"

He sat down heavily on a crate. "Frey, you're not going to believe it."

"Try me."

"Well, this guy turned up at the hall, saying he was Reilly's lawyer …"

…

"_Mr Reynolds?" The man who had spoken was waiting in the reception area. Tall, very thin, he had a line of white hair around the back of his head, while his bald dome shone in the morning light._

"_Captain Reynolds." Mal stood as straight as he could._

"_Of the Firefly Serenity?"_

"_That's me."_

"_Do you have any kind of proof that's who you are?"_

_Hil Dywer, Pickett and Monty all stepped forward. "We can all vouch that's who he is," Monty said._

"_And he's my cousin," Harry added from behind them._

"_I'm not sure –"_

"_I haven't exactly got any ID on me, but if you'd like to come to my ship –" Mal began._

_The man held up a hand. "No. I don't think that's necessary." He switched on a professional smile. "My name's Isaiah Kilbrook. I am … was Mr Reilly's lawyer."_

"_He had a lawyer?" Hil laughed. "What, he get himself pinched a lot?"_

"_No. I don't do that sort of law." Kilbrook looked back at Mal. "Is there somewhere we can talk privately?"_

"_Looks like there's a room here," Zoe said, nodding towards an open door._

"_Mr Kilburn." Mal indicated he should go first._

"_Thank you." He walked inside._

_Mal gave Zoe a look and they followed, closing the door to keep the others out. At least it seemed he was probably who he said he was. Anyone else wouldn't have gone first into a room they didn't know._

_Inside was a small table and two chairs. Kilburn sat down in one and removed a sheaf of papers from the case in his hand. "Please, sit."_

"_I'd rather stand."_

"_Of course."_

"_Zoe said this was to do with Reilly's will?"_

_Kilburn smiled. He liked people who were straight to the point. "You are named executor of it, Mr … __**Captain**__ Reynolds."_

"_Executor?"_

"_And main beneficiary. In fact, sole beneficiary."_

_Mal's eyebrow raised as he glanced at Zoe. "Reilly had a fortune after all?"_

"_Uh, not quite."_

"_Not sure I like the sound of that. He ain't trying to saddle me with his debts, is he?"_

"_Not at all. In fact, Mr Reilly settled all of that before he died. Although there is no money, he has left you something else."_

"_And that would be?"_

"_He's made you guardian of his daughters."_

_Mal's jaw fell. "His what?"_

"_His daughters." Kilbrook looked down at his papers. "Honoria, Valentia, Phoebe, Letitia, Rosemary and Hermione."_

_Mal lowered himself slowly into the seat. "What the hell was Reilly doing with … what was that, five girls?"_

"_Six."_

"_Six. Right."_

"_I wouldn't like to say."_

"_What about … where're their mothers?"_

"_I don't have that information, Captain Reynolds."_

"_Six …" Mal glanced up at Zoe, who was looking as inscrutable as ever. Except for just a twitch at the corner of her mouth. He pulled himself together. "Look, I conjure Reilly liked a joke as much as the next man, but this is crazy."_

"_Please, take my word for it. It's very real." Kilbrook nodded towards the door. "They're waiting outside."_

"_They're …" Mal was on his feet and hurrying outside, past the small group of his friends. Sticking his head out of the door he saw the lawyer had been right. Six girls. Only not the babes in arms he'd been expecting. He walked back into the room._

"_And what am I supposed to do with them?" he asked._

_Kilbrook stood up, pushing the papers back into his case. "I have no idea, Captain. But they are here, and they are your responsibility."_

"_Hold hard there, mister," Mal said, Zoe stepping in front of the lawyer as he headed for the door. "Six girls … how the hell am I supposed to pay for 'em? And how come they ain't at home?"_

"_They have no home, Captain. Mr Reilly paid for their accommodation up to and including this date. As of twenty minutes ago, they're homeless. And destitute, if you don't take them on." Kilbrook nodded once. "Captain." He slid round Zoe and left._

"_That __**qingwa cao de liumang**__ …" Mal muttered._

"_Any idea how you're going to explain this to Freya, sir?" Zoe asked, and had to hide a smile as she saw him turn pale._

"_Maybe I can think up something on the way back," Mal admitted. "What, I have no idea."_

…

"… and here they are," Mal finished.

"Was Reilly insane?" Freya asked. At some point during the tale she'd sat down next to him, and now she leaned into him.

"I gotta say he has to have been."

"He really thinks … thought … you'd take on his daughters?"

"We were Independents together. I guess he thought he could trust me."

Freya shook her head and exhaled noisily. "But don't the girls know where their mothers are?"

He shrugged. "'Parently not. Seems Reilly got real good at getting himself hitched, but not so hot at keeping 'em." There was a look of honest bafflement about him. "Not that he ever got divorced from them so technically I guess most of 'em are …" He didn't finish.

Freya understood though. "And the girls? What about them?"

"When their mothers left, Reilly said he'd bring 'em up. Least that's what Honoria said."

"Honoria?"

"The oldest. The redhead."

"The one that looks a little too much like Saffron for my taste?"

"Yeah, that's her."

"How old is she?"

"Just had her seventeenth birthday, apparently." Mal held up his hands. "And no, I didn't know. Reilly never talked about his home life, and I didn't even know he was married, let alone had kids, when he got attached to the platoon."

"But Mal, they're spaced out over some time. And the youngest is, what, twelve?"

"About that." Mal sighed. "He must've been romancing their mothers during the war, at least the middle ones. Honoria says they'd come to Mead, take one look at the place they were supposed to live, and hightail it back out."

"So all six mothers abandoned them?"

"Only four. The middle four are two sets of twins. And the last died in childbirth."

Freya couldn't take it in. "And he left them to you?"

"To look after. Find them someplace to live, I guess, or … I don't know."

"You don't … didn't he leave any kind of instructions?"

"Not that anyone can find. Just the last will and testament, and that just said I was to take 'em in. Or they'd starve."

"I thought you said Reilly had money."

"Well, if'n he did, no-one's been able to lay their hands on it." He sighed. "Ain't rightly sure what I'm supposed to do next, Frey."

"For once, I don't have a clue either, Mal."

They sat in the cargo bay, just holding hands, staring into nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

"He did what?" Hil Dwyer stared at Mal, her mouth open, then burst into uncontrolled laughter. Harry and Pickett joined in, only Monty managing to control himself.

Mal stood waiting, his arms crossed, letting them get it out of their systems. He hadn't told them before – just collected the girls and gone back to the ship – and right now he wished he hadn't told them at all, but they might have some ideas.

"You always did say you wanted a big family," Harry managed to gasp out.

"Yeah, but not all in one go!" Pickett wheezed.

"And without the fun of making 'em!" Hil had her hands on her knees, trying to get air into her lungs. "Oh, God, Mal … what are you gonna do?"

"At the moment, I don't have a notion. I was kinda hoping you might."

Harry sobered a little. "Well, I'd take 'em on like a shot, only I've got no place to put them. Kinda life I lead, I can't exactly have little ones taggin' around holding onto my skirts."

"I doubt the missus would approve if I brought home six girls," Pickett agreed.

"And don't look at me," Hil added. "I can just about manage to get myself and my crew jobs, let alone take on anyone else."

"I know the feeling," Mal said. "I'm scraping from job to job sometimes."

"It doesn't get any easier," she said, her laughter of a few moments ago all but gone.

"Look, if you need cash –" Pickett began.

"Ain't asking for charity," Mal said quickly.

"Then maybe we do a collection. Amongst his friends. I mean, if, like you say, he's left them with nothing."

"He had money," Hil said unexpectedly.

"You were in touch?"

"Off and on. He asked me to marry him once."

"Was he drunk?"

"No. Sober as a judge. I wasn't, though."

"What did you say?" Harry asked.

"Told you, I was drunk. I said no."

Mal was surprised. "Would you have said yes otherwise?"

"Not sure." Hil's face took on an unexpected aspect. "Prob'ly have ended up killing him anyway, so better I didn't."

There was a moment's silence, then Harry said, "So if there was money, where is it?"

Hil shrugged. "No idea. Probably pissed it away gambling and the like."

Pickett looked at Mal. "So now what? They're on board your boat?"

Mal nodded. "That they are."

"Well, my job's still open. And if'n you need to take a couple extra days to sort this out, that's fine."

"What job's that?" Hil asked, her eyes narrowing. "Only I'm kinda free at the moment."

"Promised it to Mal," Pickett said.

"But if he can't fulfil –"

"Never said that," Mal interrupted. "We'll be there. Only I'll be beholden if you could give us that extra time. Maybe I can contact their mothers or something."

"If they ain't been involved with their kids for so long, what makes you think they'll be interested now?" Harry asked.

"Mainly because I ain't got no other rutting idea."

---

"There isn't enough room around the table for all of you," Mal said, looking into the six faces, none of whom reminded him of Reilly in the slightest. Except maybe about the eyes. "So you girls'll eat here in the common area. It'll be comfortable enough until we figure out what to do next."

Honoria stood up. "Thank you, Captain. I realise this is difficult for you."

"No more'n for you, I conjure."

"Still, having six more mouths to feed isn't going to be easy."

"Well, some of you ain't exactly big," he smiled at Hermione, the youngest, who just stared back at him. "We can manage. Least for a while, until I figure out what to do with you."

"I can get a job," Honoria said. "I'm sure there are things I can do that –"

Mal held up his hand. "We can talk about that later. 'N' I don't think you should be thinking about getting work around here. It ain't exactly … appropriate for someone your age."

"It's my home, Captain. _All_ of us." She was looking at him steadily, and he began to reappraise her. That level headed, clear, calm gaze was a hell of a lot older than seventeen.

"I understand that, Honoria, and I meant no insult. But if it's your home, you know the kinda jobs around. And it ain't safe for your sisters."

"I won't let them prostitute themselves, Captain."

"And I wouldn't let you either." He tried a smile. "And if you're staying on board, and since it appears I'm your legal and above board guardian, I think you can call me Mal."

Her lips lifted slightly. "And you'd better call me Honor. Reilly did like fancy names."

"You called him Reilly?"

"He didn't like being called Dad, or Pa, or anything else. Just Reilly." Honor looked at her sisters. "We are grateful, you know."

"That's good." He hitched his thumbs into his belt. "And if you need anything, you just ask me. Or if it's girlie type things, Freya'll be glad to help, or any of the other women on board."

"Freya is your wife?"

"That she is. Why?"

"I just wondered."

"Well, better just lay a few ground rules. You can have free run of the cargo bay, since we ain't got no cargo at the moment, and the kitchen's okay too. But stay out of the engine room, and off the bridge. If you need to –"

Jayne stomped through the doorway. "Mal, where's the doc? I got a …" He stumbled to a halt, staring at the young woman talking to his captain. Then his eyes took in the rest … "Mal, how come there's six girls in the common area?" the big man asked, his face puzzled. "We got a job transporting 'em somewhere?"

"Something like that," Mal agreed, noting Honor's eyes light up at the sight of the big man. Well, he must be attractive to _some_ women, he thought. "That's Jayne," he added quickly. "Stay out of his way unless you want to learn some bright and colourful language."

"I ain't that bad," Jayne protested.

"Yes you are. And if you're looking for the doc I think he's up in the engine room with Kaylee."

"They getting all – "

"Jayne."

"Just wanted something for a … something crawled inside my pants and I got bit." He went to undo his belt buckle, then saw the look on Mal's face. "Engine room?"

"Yeah."

"Reckon I'll just go and interrupt them, then." He grinned at the girls. "Ladies." He hurried up the stairs.

"He's … once you get to know him …" Mal stopped. "Just stay out of his way."

"Thank you, Captain," Honoria said.

"Mal."

"Mal." She smiled.

---

Bethany was sitting in the galley at the table, humming to herself as she drew. Auntie River had given her some colours of her own and a big pad of paper, and she was enjoying herself. Fiddler was in his usual place under her feet.

The youngest Reilly girl, Hermione, slunk in. "Oh, didn't realise anyone was here," she said.

Bethany looked up and smiled. "I'm painting," she said, holding up the brush. "Auntie River showed me how."

"Oh." Almost against her will she approached the table. "What're you painting?"

"Momma." Bethany closed one eye like she'd seen her Auntie do, and leaned back. "In the engine room."

To Hermione it looked like a brown blob with something grey in its hand. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to it.

"A number 4 autoline socket wrench."

Hermione blinked. "What?"

"Momma uses it to fix Serenity when she's hurting." She grinned, happy with her effort. "When it's dry Auntie River said she'd frame it for me. So I can give it to Momma."

"She won't want that."

"Yes she will." Bethany looked at the older girl, wondering why she sounded so different to everyone else she knew. "Momma always likes what I give her."

Hermione muttered something Bethany couldn't hear, but for once the little girl didn't look. Something about her made her feel strange, and she didn't want to see what she was thinking.

"Do you want to play with my puppy?" Bethany went on, still trying to make friends. It had been easy with her mother's family, so she saw no reason why she shouldn't be able to now. "His name's Fiddler." Climbing awkwardly down from her chair, she reached over and picked up the little dog. "Uncle Mal bought him for me when I busted my arm." She held out her cast. "Do you want to write on it?"

"No." Hermione looked at the puppy. "Fiddler?"

Bethany shrugged. "That's his name." Fiddler squirmed and she had to put him down, and he immediately wagged and headed towards Hermione. "He likes you."

"No, he doesn't."

This was hard work, Bethany realised. Not everyone wanted to be her friend quite so readily. She looked down at her arm. "Got paint on my cast," she mused.

"Your momma won't like that. She'll tell you off."

Bethany looked surprised. "Why?"

"For getting messy."

"Momma gets messy. Daddy doesn't tell her off."

"They're different. They're adults. They don't play by our rules."

"Our rules?"

"They don't care about us. Only themselves."

Bethany was confused. "I don't –"

"They don't love you," Hermione spat, anger fighting the sadness in her. "They get fed up with you, they'll put you in a home, never see you again!"

Bethany's eyes widened. "They do love me. They all do," she insisted.

"They'll leave you and no-one will ever want you!" Hermione ran out of the kitchen, kicking Fiddler out of the way and making him yelp.

Bethany burst into tears as the little puppy cowered in the corner.

"What's going on?" Jayne asked, hearing the sound of raised voices but too late to catch the words. Bethany turned to him, holding out her arms. "Hey, hey, what's this?" the big man said, lifting her up. The little girl was sobbing, her whole body quivering.

"She … said … nobody … loves … me!" Every word was punctuated by a sharp breath inwards.

"Short stub, you know that ain't true." Jayne carried her to the easy chairs, scooping Fiddler up on the way as he sat down. The little dog snuggled into his lap.

"But she said –"

"I don't care what she said. You know we all love you. 'Specially me."

"You do?"

"Course I do. And your Auntie River, and your Uncle Mal … and your Ma and Pa love you something fierce."

"But she said –"

"Bethie, she's wrong. You read me and tell me what's true."

Bethany gazed at him then laid her head on his shoulder. "I love you, Uncle Jayne."

"That's shiny. 'Cause I love you too, shortie."

Freya looked into the dining area. "Is she okay?"

Jayne nodded. "One of the Reilly girls upset her."

"I heard."

"I think maybe I need to have a word with 'em." There was anger in his tone. Nobody was allowed to make Bethany cry like this. Nobody.

"No, Jayne," Freya said quickly. "Let me deal with it."

"You sure?" He wasn't convinced.

"Positive. You take care of Bethie."

---

Freya walked slowly down the stairs, her stick clicking on the metal treads, and saw the three youngest Reilly girls sitting in the common area. They looked up as she reached the floor.

"Hermione, would you come with me a moment? I'd like to talk to you."

"Now you're for it," Letitia sniggered, nudging her sister.

Hermione slapped her on the arm, then stood up. "What do you want?" she asked defiantly.

Freya smiled slightly. "Just to talk." She continued towards the crew quarters. "I think we'd be more comfortable in here, don't you?"

With reluctance, and more than one glare back at the twins, Hermione followed.

"Are you?" she asked as Freya opened the door to her temporary sleeping accommodation. "Going to tell me off?"

"Let's sit, shall we?"

"Don't want to."

"Well, I do." Freya manoeuvred herself close to the bed and sat down slowly, leaning back a little to give her hip some ease. The deep pain showed on her face.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, in spite of herself.

"I got hurt a while back. But this is … I had an operation. A few days ago."

"A few days?" Hermione came a little closer. "Should you be up at all?"

Freya smiled at the badly concealed concern in her voice. "I heal quickly."

"Does it hurt?" The girl sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Yes. But it will get better, and I'll be fine. Then I can throw this stick away." She grinned. "Well, give it back to Simon."

"Good."

There was a pause. "So, do you want to tell me what's going on? Why you said that to Bethany?"

"It wasn't anything to say." Hermione found her hands to be really interesting, and dropped her eyes to stare at them.

"She's two, Hermione. Why would you want to hurt her like that?"

"It's true!" Hermione had the sudden anger of youth, and there was fire in her eyes as she snapped her head up. "Everyone leaves you!"

"Is that what you think? That everyone has abandoned you?"

"My mother died when I was born. And … and Reilly. He got sick, and no-one could do anything, and now I …" She couldn't help it. She began to cry. "I'm so afraid."

"Afraid? Of what?"

"Everything!" The last word was a howl, and the girl almost fell into Freya's lap, her head hitting just the wrong point.

Freya suppressed a moan as pain flared briefly into agony, instead concentrating on Hermione. "You're not alone, you know. You have your sisters." She stroked the girl's long brown hair.

"I know. That's not enough."

Mal, attracted by the sound of crying, hurried down the stairs and crossed the common area, coming to a halt outside the room. Freya looked up but shook her head slightly. Whatever it was, she was handling it. He backed up and headed for the cargo bay, aware of two sets of eyes on him from the twins even while they listened to the conversation behind him.

"Do you think your father did it on purpose? Got sick?" Freya asked Hermione.

"Course not." She sniffed and sat up. "He loved us."

Freya's lips twitched. "That he did. And I imagine that's why he asked Mal to look after you. Because he knew he would."

"But how can he?"

"I don't know," Freya admitted. "He's still working on it." She patted the girl's hand. "But you need to apologise."

Hermione nodded. "I am sorry."

"Tell Bethany that. She may be only two, but she understands more than you can imagine."

"I'll go now."

"She's on the bridge with Hank."

Hermione looked at her oddly, wondering how she could know, then nodded again and hurried off.

Freya lay back, her fist pressed into her hip, her eyes closed as she willed the pain to recede.

"You okay?" Mal asked from the doorway. He'd only hung around the entrance to the bay, and saw Hermione run up the stairs.

She looked at him. "Next time you say you want a girl, I'm going to shoot you," she said quietly.

He grinned and stepped into the room. "But you're good at this. Just ask River. 'Sides, Jayne told me what had happened – you handled it well." He sat down next to her. "Hurts?"

"Some."

He didn't answer, just leaned over and pulled open a drawer. From inside he took out a hypo and steriswab. "Be better in a minute," he promised, opening the sterile pack and wiping the inside of her arm. Removing the hypo cover with his teeth, he proceeded to inject the pale liquid into her vein.

"I didn't need that," she complained, but very quietly as he dropped the used items into the bin.

"Yes you did. I know you. If you'd said it didn't I wouldn't believe you, and if you said it did, I'd be calling Simon right now." He put his hand on her cheek. "You can tell me the truth, you know."

"I know." She sighed, feeling the relief spreading through her. "You got a minute?"

He grinned. "A minute. Supervising six females is wearing me out."

"Then you'd better rest." She moved along the bed enough so he could lie next to her.

"Ain't taking my boots off," he warned. "That'll only give you ideas."

"Mal, except for the fact that Simon would have a fit, I don't need you to remove items of clothing to give me ideas."

He laughed. "No, me neither." Pulling her towards him, he settled her into her usual place. "Anyway, I said I'd give Kaylee a hand with the meal."

"You? Cook?"

"Well, I think she's got me on fatigues, so I'll be cleaning the vegetables."

"So no actual cooking, then."

"No."

"Good."

He pinched her slightly, and she yelped. "It's a good job we got that crate of food from Eddie, though," Mal said. "Without it we'd be hard pushed to feed 'em all."

"What about cash? Have we got enough?"

"It'll be eating into the savings," Mal admitted, "but we're okay for a day or two. Pickett still has that job for us."

"So we're going to drag six girls halfway across the system without knowing what to do with them?"

"You could always give them lessons."

Freya half sat up. "Hey, that's a good idea. How about we talk to Inara?"

Mal stared at her. "Why?"

"She talked about taking girls on. Finishing them."

"What?"

She put her head back into the crook of his shoulder. "Making sure they know which knife to use. That kind of thing."

"And Inara would take on six girls she knows nothing about? I don't think so. Just have to try and make my brain work a bit harder."

"Is that the smell?"

He looked down at her. "Smell?"

"Gears grinding, normally unused pieces of machinery being pressed into service –" She couldn't say any more on account of Mal's mouth against hers.


	5. Chapter 5

Dinner was an odd affair, with most of the talk being about the six girls below.

"I think it's sweet of the Cap'n," Kaylee said, cutting Bethany's food into bite size chunks, something she couldn't do herself, not with a cast on her arm. "Takin' 'em in like that."

"That's what you said about the puppies," Simon put in. Bethany was on his lap, not wanting to be on her own, not after that afternoon. "And look where that's got us."

"Only got the one," his wife commented. "And he's a cutie too. Just like you."

Jayne laughed. "Not sure how I'd take to being compared to a ball of fluff, doc."

Simon raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't answer. Instead he looked at Mal. "What about the Alliance? Is someone going to report that they're on board? It could cause problems."

"No problems," Mal said. "Kilbrook was clear on that. I'm their legal guardian. Least until Honoria's of age, I guess."

"So they're going to be on board a year?"

"That wasn't what I said, Simon."

Hank laughed. "He just doesn't want to have to tend to a bunch of nubile young women." A thought occurred to him. "Hey, does this mean Jayne's gonna have to fight off the men they attract?"

"It isn't funny," Zoe said softly, but her lips were twitching.

"No, it ain't," Mal agreed.

"Well, it is a bit," Freya added. She looked at her husband. "Sorry."

"You're no help."

Freya grinned and went back to supervising Ethan's eating as he sat in the high chair.

"Fireworks." River's voice cut across them.

"Sweetie?" Kaylee asked. "Fireworks?"

"I see fireworks. Bright, flickering … fireworks." She shook her head. "But I don't …"

Jayne took her hand. "Something not right?"

"I don't know." She took a deep breath, holding it for a long moment before exhaling silently. "I can't tell yet."

Bethany looked up, chewing. "Auntie River, I could –"

"No," Freya said softly. "Better you don't."

"And close your mouth when you're eating, Bethie," her mother added.

"It's okay," Mal said, smiling at her. "Don't want you breaking that control."

Bethany shrugged and went back to attacking her plate of food, hoping nobody noticed as she dropped a piece off the table into Fiddler's waiting mouth. She glanced up, saw Freya smiling at her, and grinned.

_Everyone does it_, she heard in her mind. _Even your Uncle Mal_.

"Anyway, I don't see the alternative," Mal said, sighing as he put his mug back on the table. "There's no place for them here on Mead, so we have to take them."

"And then what?" Simon held his daughter around the waist as she leaned over to pick up another forkful of food. "They've already upset Bethany –"

"That Hermione apologised," Hank interrupted. "Real pretty too."

"Friends now," Bethany agreed, but didn't get down from her father's lap.

"Well, that's good, but it isn't the point." Simon looked at his wife for support. "They don't know us, and we don't know them. Even if Hermione did apologise, she shouldn't have said it in the first place."

"She's angry, Simon," Freya explained. "She's afraid of being left alone."

"She has five sisters," Hank put in. "Ain't that much alone."

"And the only link she had with them was Reilly, and he's gone now. Her mother's dead, so she hasn't even got that to consider … Can you imagine what it must have been like, this past month?" Freya looked at them all around the table. "Not knowing what was going to happen, but fully aware that you were going to be out on the streets after the wake?" She shook her head. "I'm not surprised Hermione blew up like she did. I wish she hadn't done it at Bethany, but it was going to happen sometime."

"You think the others might feel the same?" Zoe asked.

"To some degree, but probably not as much. Honoria is seventeen, virtually an adult. I doubt much phases her."

"You can say that again," Hank muttered, then went quickly back to his food at the inquiring look from Zoe.

"And the twins have each other …" Freya stopped. "Not that it means much. Having a twin."

Simon nodded. She was talking about her own twin, a lifetime ago. "They're identical twins, so I should think they're closer. Support each other."

"I hope they do. But they're all still alone in the 'verse."

There was a silence, everyone looking just a little bit ashamed of themselves, until Mal spoke. "Well, they ain't. Not no more." He settled his shoulders. "And it's up to us to figure out what's best for them."

"Maybe Freya's right, sir," Zoe said. "Maybe we should talk to Inara."

"Well, it's a thought, but there's maybe a couple of points you might be ignoring here. Firstly, she might not want them. And second … she's looking for a paying gig, not being a way station for charity cases like ours." Mal sat back and pushed his hand through his hair. "Without the cash, I don't see we can impose."

"Well, we have to do something," Simon went on. "Six of them on board is going to be a strain, particularly as I agree with Freya's analysis of their mental state. In fact more than once I've caught the oldest …" He stopped.

"What?" Mal asked, curious.

The young man almost blushed. "Well, staring."

"Me too," Hank said. "It's kinda embarrassing."

"It ain't that bad," Jayne put in.

River turned her face to him. "And you would know that … why?" she asked coolly.

Jayne didn't blush. "'Cause she's been staring at me too."

"Have you been encouraging her?"

"Nope. Don't think she needs no encouragement."

"She's seventeen, Jayne," Zoe said, trying not to smile. "Girls have … odd tastes at that age."

"You saying I'm odd?" the big mercenary asked, bristling a little.

"Yes," River interrupted. "But that's okay."

"Oh. Right." He settled down again.

"Hang on," Simon said quickly. "I think I'm being insulted here too. She's been … staring at me as well. Are you saying I'm odd too?"

"And me," Hank added.

"At that age girls tend to look at _all _men with that sort of eye," Zoe explained placatingly.

"I ain't noticed anything," Mal said.

"You haven't been watching," Freya responded. "She's been ogling you too."

"Ogling?"

"Technical term."

"Freya's right, sir," Zoe said. "Honoria has been very … even-handed with her … ogling."

"Were you like that at seventeen?" Hank asked.

"I was a soldier. I didn't have the time to ogle anyone. Besides, it was against regulations."

"They regulated against having fun?"

"It was the army. Of course they did."

Hank turned to Freya. "What about you? Seventeen? Boys?"

"Late developer," Freya said succinctly, sharing an amused glance with Mal. "And I was crewing on a Lancaster. There wasn't exactly anyone who floated my boat."

"Floated your boat?"

"So to speak."

"I had a crush on Marcus Lau at that time," Kaylee admitted.

"Do I know that name?" Simon asked.

"Actor. On the Cortex. He was in one of those long-running soaps. If I'd ever met him, I'd'a been a puddle o' goo. He was _suai_. Tall, dark, blue eyes …" She looked at Mal. "Kinda like you a bit." Her eyes glazed and she sighed happily. "Real _suai_."

Mal felt a slight blush creep up his chest, and looked at Freya. She was highly amused.

"Yeah, well, as fun as this is, it ain't solving our problem," he said firmly.

"Honoria doesn't mean any harm, Mal," Freya said gently.

"I'm sure she doesn't, but I don't want her starting something might end in tears." He added quickly, "On her side."

"I don't get the feeling Honoria lets much get to her like that."

"Is this what having girls is like?" he asked. "Worrying about them all the time?"

She wiped Ethan's chin where he'd let some food slide out. "Of course."

"Mama," he said, and grinned widely at her. The rest of the crew smiled.

"And you just wait until Bethany reaches that age," Freya warned, looking at the young parents. "She is going to be a handful."

"She already is," Simon said, holding his daughter as she reached across the table for another piece of bread. "Do you have to?" he asked, feeling her feet pounding his thighs.

"Hungry."

"All the excitement," Kaylee explained.

Bethany grinned.

---

Jayne was in the kitchen, face to face with a problem. He was hungry. It often hit him, in the wee small hours, as his mother used to call them. 'Specially if he was getting some regularly. And with River it was. If anything, she was the one initiated her share of their love making. Not that he minded, not at all. It just surprised him a little. He grinned. And he was enjoying being surprised, every single minute of it.

Like tonight. She hadn't even waited for him to get undressed before she'd pushed him back against the bulkhead …

He didn't bother putting the light on, just headed for the cupboard where Kaylee had taken to hiding some crackers for him, just for times like this. She was a good girl. Crackers in hand, he turned to go back, and nearly dropped the bag.

"Jayne." Honoria Reilly stood in the semi-darkness, her hair flaming, her skin glowing, wearing nothing but a slip with thin straps that barely brushed the top of her knees.

"Is it cold in here?" he asked, his eyes drawn to her chest and the evidence that yes, maybe it was.

"I'm lonely, Jayne." She reached up and slid a strap from her shoulder, revealing more tender, pale flesh.

Jayne's brain threatened to short-circuit. No, not cold. Hot. Very hot. "Yeah … well … you'd … you've got …" Blood was rushing from his skull to other areas of his body, leaving his mind to fend for itself. "You got sisters," he managed to grunt out.

"I don't want them. I want you."

"Uh … what?"

"You. Now. Here." She slid the other strap and the front of the slip fell away.

Nothing but a moan came out of the man as he stared at youthful breasts.

"Honoria." River was in the doorway, a dress hastily thrown on. "He's mine."

The two girls looked at each other, neither phased by the young woman's semi-nudity. "Doesn't look like he's taken," Honoria said, glancing down significantly at Jayne's nether regions.

"That's because he's a man. If you did this to my brother you'd probably get the same reaction." River paused a second. "Only I'd rather you didn't. Kaylee wouldn't be as nice to you as I'm going to be."

Jayne wanted to interrupt, to tell Honoria what River could do to her. Except the part of his brain that was still functioning was saying that what he _really_ wanted to do was just watch her do it.

"And what are you going to do about it?"

River smiled, and it chilled Jayne to the bone, bringing up thoughts of Reavers and metal blades.

"Um, River, honey …" he began, but she waved him to silence.

"Honoria, he's mine. I worked long and hard for him, and I'm not about to give him up." She ran her eyes up and down the girl's body. "And certainly not to you."

Honoria twitched, suddenly feeling goosebumps along her arms. She tossed her head. "I don't want him. I just wanted some male company, but I can do without oafs." She pulled the straps of her slip back up onto her shoulders and turned her back on them both, flouncing out of the room.

River glided across the floor to Jayne.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "She just … I didn't … there wasn't …"

River put her finger on his lips. "I know. But don't do it again."

"I won't."

She smiled, this time warmer, more mischievous. "And I think you'd better bring those crackers with you. Somehow I feel unaccountably … frisky."

---

The small com felt cold in her hand, but she got through quickly enough.

"I'm sorry. I tried my best, but they're all taken."

"Never mind, sweetheart. He's keeping us all in the loop. Soon as he knows something, we will."

"I can try again, if you like. There's a couple aren't actually married, and although the big one has a protector, the other –"

"No, Honor. It's fine. Don't you worry none. We'll get it, you just wait and see."


	6. Chapter 6

Mal had a headache. So far he'd had it going to bed, and despite Freya's mental ministrations he'd woken up with it too, pounding away just inside his eyeballs. And, after a somewhat restless night, he still hadn't decided what to do about the girls. More and more he was coming round to the idea that maybe Inara might be able to help, even if it was just to offer some suggestions, but right now the notion of waving her and having to put up with her laughter was more than he could take.

He stared out at Mead, noting that a number of ships at the dock had departed during the night, and he knew most of the Browncoats at the wake had gone.

"Gotta go, Mal," Pickett had said. "My wife'll kill me if I don't get home. Lizzie's got a dance recital tomorrow, and I gotta be there."

They'd shaken hands, Mal promising to keep him informed.

"Take the time you need," Pickett went on. "This has been something of a shock, and you need to gather yourself. Long as you're on Verbena before the week's out, that'll be fine."

"We'll be there."

Pickett wasn't the only one gone. Lann Chen, Kilburn, Tolley … they'd all flown back into the black. Harry would have gone too, but Monty was sticking around for a while, and as he'd cadged a lift with the old goat, he couldn't exactly go without him. Hil was also still hanging around.

"Won't go until you know what you're doing, Mal," she said. "That's what we do. We stick together."

"Thanks, Hil." He was grateful, very grateful, only it didn't help his current predicament.

"Here," Freya said from behind him.

He turned away from the view of the dock, and smiled at his wife carefully crossing the bay floor. He walked forwards to meet her half way. She held out two more of the little white pills.

"Simon's secret weapon?" he asked, taking them from her.

"You have a headache. These will help."

"Thanks." He tossed them back, rinsing them down with the cup of water she handed to him. "These aren't addictive, are they?"

"Only if taken on a regular basis," Freya dead-panned. "You should be okay for a day or two."

"And you? How're you this morning?"

She smiled. "You only saw me ten minutes ago."

"I worry about you. Things can happen in ten minutes."

"Well, I'm shiny."

"Good." He pulled her into his arms, and she let the stick fall from her hand with a clatter. "That is so much better," he murmured.

"I'll second that." She let her body mould to his, feeling his lean muscles against the length of her.

"I think you're right."

"Of course I am. What about?" she asked, smiling, her cheek pressed into his neck.

"Inara. There really ain't much point in us hanging around here, so maybe I should wave her, ask if she can at least take the girls on temporarily, even just for a few days while we do Pickett's job."

"It can't hurt."

"Oh, yes it can," he said. "I can just imagine the kinda things she's gonna say when I ask."

"She'll say yes. You know she will."

"_Eventually_. It's the hilarity part before that _eventually_ that's got me worried."

"Captain Reynolds?"

Mal looked over towards the door. The lawyer who had handed the girls over to him was standing silhouetted in the morning light. "Kilbrook." He let go of Freya and picked up her stick, giving it back to her.

"Good morning." The man walked up the ramp.

"Might be for you, but I'm not so sure about me yet. What can I do for you?"

"I have a letter for you, from Mr Reilly."

Mal glanced at Freya. "Letter?"

Kilbrook reached into his case. "There was a further instruction from Mr Reilly to myself, to be opened this morning, and it included this."

"Why not yesterday?" Mal asked, eyeing it warily. "Ain't saying there's more kids around, is there?"

"I don't know what it says, Captain. Mr Reilly didn't elucidate." Kilbrook held out the envelope. "But he was very specific. If you were still on Mead today, with the girls, I was to hand this over to you."

Mal took it carefully, by the edge, as if he expected it to blow up. Or at least jump out of his hand and run around the cargo bay singing _God Save the Browncoats_. "That it?"

"That's it."

"Nothing else likely to come along? You know, that you've forgotten to mention."

"No, Captain." Kilbrook shook his head. "I honestly didn't know about this until I got to the office. It really isn't the way I like to do things."

"No. I figure you like them all tied up in a neat red ribbon."

Kilbrook smiled. Just a little. "I prefer blue, but yes."

Mal took another look at the man, and decided he wasn't as bad as he'd first thought. "Look, do you want to have a coffee with us? Maybe there's something you can tell us about Reilly I don't know, something I can use to figure out what he'd've wanted me to do."

"No, I'm sorry, I can't." Kilbrook actually sounded apologetic. "I have a client to see. I thought it better to drop this off first, but I'm on my way there now."

"That's okay."

"And I didn't know Mr Reilly that well. I get the impression he didn't have that many close friends. Indeed, I am surprised at the number who turned up at the wake."

"Free booze," Mal said. "No Browncoat ever turned down the opportunity to drink at someone else's expense."

This time it was a full smile. "I imagine not." Kilbrook held out his hand. "Well, I had better be going. If you need any legal work done, please don't hesitate to wave me."

"I tend not to get involved with lawyers if I can manage it," Mal admitted. "No offence."

"None taken." They shook. "Goodbye, Captain Reynolds."

"Bye."

Mal watched the man walk out into the morning, ramrod straight, then turned to Freya.

She looked at the envelope in his hand. "You might want Simon to scan that first before you open it," she advised.

"I don't think Reilly would blow me up. Not with his kids on board." Still, he took a deep breath and held it before opening it. He tipped the contents out.

Inside the package was a large wallet, and a capture tab. On the wallet were the words WATCH THIS FIRST. READ THIS SECOND.

"I feel like Alice," Mal muttered.

"What?"

"Eat me, drink me."

"Do you need me to get Simon?" Freya joked.

"Just so long as we don't get a white rabbit walking by, no, I don't think so." He stared out of the cargo bay doors after Kilbrook, and shook his head. "Why do I feel like I'm in a book, only no-one's letting me in on the plot?"

"I wouldn't know." She smiled. "If it's any comfort, I feel the same way."

"Sorry to say, it ain't." He sighed. "Come on. Better get this looked at."

---

Everyone wanted to be there, so they were congregated in the dining area, a portable screen on the table. Well, almost everyone.

"Where're the girls?" Mal asked.

"Simon's keeping 'em all out of the way by giving 'em all physicals," Kaylee supplied. "And he's none too happy about missing this."

"I'm sure you'll make it up to him somehow," Freya smiled.

"I think the handcuffs might have to be gotten out of storage."

"Too much information, _mei-mei_," Mal complained. Then he looked at Freya. "Handcuffs?"

She smiled wider. "Can we just watch this? And stop trying to put it off."

Mal blew a breath out of his lips, and nodded. Hank pressed play.

Reilly appeared on the screen, grinning. "Hi ya, Mal."

"Is that …" Zoe began.

"Has to be." Mal shook his head. The man on the screen was a mere shadow of the mountain they remembered. He seemed almost … small.

"Sorry about all this," Reilly was saying. "Only I'm sick, and the docs say I ain't gonna get better, so there's a few things to be done."

"Yeah, like lumber me with –"

"My girls. My daughters. Beautiful, ain't they? And everyone one of 'em a gem. Little bit rough around the edges, maybe, but I love them. So I want you to look after them. And if you're seeing this now, then I know you've taken 'em on. Thanks."

He paused for a moment, as if gathering his strength. "Only you don't have to worry too much. I been planning this a long time, Mal. Knew I was dying so I made provision for 'em. Something to make them comfy. So I've been accumulating, you might say. Got to the point where it wasn't about the gambling no more, just making sure something was put by for 'em. And I was good. Walked away when I won, played the odds. It's enough, Mal, enough to see 'em right."

"Treasure?" Jayne breathed but was ignored.

"Only I can't tell you where it is. It ain't like I don't trust you, 'cause you know I do. It's just that some wants what ain't theirs. You're gonna have to dig deeper and figure it out for yourself." He paused to cough into a handkerchief, and Mal and Zoe exchanged glances. "The wallet contains all I own. Ain't much and it ain't worth a roll at Ma Mary's, but it's mine. Yours, now."

Mal looked down at the wallet. It wasn't much to contain a man's life.

"And take good care of Casmir." Reilly clicked his fingers. "Only I don't think I mentioned him. He's my horse. _Your_ horse now. A racer. He's entered into the Mead Open, running, if Kilbrook did his job properly, in four days time. His papers are in the wallet too, duly signed over to you. He ain't gonna win – not with his record – but I'd like to see you do right by him. Won him in a poker game, and … well, kinda reminded me of you."

"Me?" Mal said indignantly.

He waved a hand. "Sorry, Mal, but you're the only one of those _hwoon dahns_ I trust. Only one ever laid me out." He grinned. "Take care of my girls – my only regret is I ain't gonna be around to see 'em grow up."

"Reilly, if you ain't dead –" Mal began under his breath.

The recording interrupted him into silence. "And I _am _dead, in case that's what you're thinking. Wish I weren't. 'Cause I got my girls to look after, 'n' I'm worrying about them. But I know you - you can work it out if anyone can." He wiped his lips. "Oh, and Zoe? I just wanted to say I was sorry to hear about your husband. But there's plenty more fish in the sea. I guess I proved that." He smiled tiredly. "Well, that's about it. I'd say see you around, Mal, but as I figure I'm going to the hot place, I doubt it. You always were too honourable for that." He saluted. "Sarge."

The recording cut off, leaving only static on the screen.

There was silence for a long while, then Mal stood straight, taking a deep breath.

"Still feel like killing him, sir?" Zoe asked.

"Just a bit," Mal admitted.

"So there's treasure?" Jayne asked. "Think it's gold?"

"If it is, it isn't ours," Freya said firmly.

"Yeah, but … ain't there finders fees or something?"

"What's in the wallet?" Hank asked.

Mal picked it up, undoing the strings around it. After all that, it wasn't much. Papers to the horse Casmir, title deeds to a whorehouse (with the notation in pencil at the bottom that after the fire that destroyed it was investigated, the insurance payment was made in full), rights to a mine, and the receipt for the capture tab.

"That it?" Jayne was disgusted.

"What did you expect? A treasure map?" Zoe asked, her implacable face cracking just a little. "He was our friend, Jayne."

"Sorry," River said for him. "He's trying."

"Yeah, very," Hank muttered. "But how the hell are we supposed to find this fortune of his without some kinda clue?"

Mal and Zoe looked at each other. "The horse?" Zoe suggested.

Mal shrugged. "Maybe. Perhaps it's tattooed on the inside of its leg."

"We gonna go look at the horses?" Kaylee asked, her face bright.

"No. I think it'd be better if -"

"Bethany would love to see them," the young mechanic went on. "It'd be a nice outing for her. After yesterday 'n'all."

"It _is _only to the stables, sir," Zoe said softly.

Freya laughed. "Looks like we're all going."

"Well, I'm not," Hank said quickly. "Me and horses have never had a very happy relationship."

"And I'll stay, sir," Zoe said. "Someone has to keep an eye on the girls, make sure they don't get up to any mischief."

"You wanna leave Ethan with us, we'll take good care of him."

"Good. And thanks," Mal said. "I don't really wanna turn up there looking like we've come from a circus."

Hank laughed. "Didn't you know, Mal? Owners always travel with an extensive entourage."


	7. Chapter 7

"Casmir." The steward at the stables swung his hand around like a magician performing a particularly difficult trick. And if he'd managed to pull a stallion out of thin air, he'd probably have got a standing ovation. As it was, the stable boy just led the horse out of his stall into the centre of the yard.

"Wow." Kaylee's mouth hung open a little.

"I have to agree," Simon said. "Wow."

Casmir was a handsome horse, dark brown, almost black in colour, with a gloss to his coat that spoke of hours of grooming. His eyes were clear, and his ears pricked forward as he watched these newcomers.

"His sire was a winner, and his dam too, but Casmir hasn't shown any sign of inheriting their genius," the steward said, shaking his head. "Mr Reilly considered this his last chance."

"I think he's beautiful," Kaylee said stoutly.

Bethany's eyes were wide. "Can I stroke him?" she asked.

"No, sweetheart, I don't think that's a good idea," Simon said. "We don't know what he's like."

"He's a good boy," the stable lad said. "She ain't gonna get hurt."

Bethany stared up at her father, imploring him.

"Well, I suppose … but –"

Whatever else he was about to say was lost as she pulled her hand free and ran over to the horse, standing under his head.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Bethany."

The horse looked down, lowering his head so he could look at her more clearly, then he nudged her gently. She giggled.

River put her hand on the horse's forehead, and smiled. Without a word she lifted Bethany up to sit on his back.

"River …" Simon protested, Kaylee grabbing at his hand.

"He doesn't mind," his sister said.

Bethany laughed even more. "I'm riding!" she said.

"Do you want me to …" The stable boy indicated with his head.

"Please," River said, smiling sweetly at him.

The boy led Casmir in a wide circle around the yard, keeping his eye on River all the time as she held onto Bethany, ready in case the little girl slipped.

Jayne glared at him but he didn't even notice, while Kaylee and Simon were torn between being happy at seeing their daughter so full of joy, and worrying in case something happened.

Mal smiled, and Freya slipped her hand into his.

"That is so sweet," she murmured.

"What were you saying about shooting me if I said I wanted a daughter?" he muttered in response.

"So maybe I was a bit premature."

Casmir came to a stop, and River helped Bethany slide to the ground. She ran up to Mal.

"Uncle Mal …" The big eyes were on full.

"What, honey?"

"Can we …"

What she wanted penetrated his brain. "No!" He shook his head at her. "No, Bethie," he repeated, tempering his tone a little. "Ain't gonna happen. We ain't taking him on board ship."

"But –"

"No buts. He ain't like a puppy, Bethie. He's a damn great horse. You can't take him out for walks."

"I could."

"I said no."

For a moment it looked as if Bethany was going to argue, or burst into tears, or probably both, but then she caught sight of Freya's face. "Okay, Uncle Mal," she whispered.

"Good." He scooped her into his arms. "Good girl."

"Besides," the steward put in, "the Open is a selling race. The first three are auctioned at the end. He might not be yours to own that much longer."

"He ain't gonna win, Mal. He's a nag!" said Jayne, suddenly the expert assessor of horse flesh, still glaring at the stable boy.

"He's not." River patted the big horse on the shoulder.

"He ain't won nothing in his gorram life!"

"Because he never wanted to. No-one ever _explained_ it to him before."

"You spoke to him?" Mal asked quietly, so the steward couldn't hear.

"He'll win."

"How?"

"Because I'll be riding him."

"What?" Jayne stared at her. "What the ruttin' hell are you talking about, River?"

"I've ridden horses before," she said, leaning her head against the smooth black hair. Her arm slid around his shoulder. "And he likes me."

"Ya like me, but ya don't ride …" He stopped, for once thinking forward in the sentence. He glanced at Mal and began again. "You ain't a jockey."

"For once I agree with Jayne," Simon said. "You are not riding in a race."

"We don't actually have a jockey for Casmir," the steward put in. "There's usually some around before the start that don't have a ride, and we let one of them, but if you have someone you'd like to –"

"No!" Simon and Jayne said together.

"Besides, we ain't even sure he's gonna be in the race," Mal said, not particularly wanting a fight right now.

"Ah, well, that's the problem," the steward said, his accent and facial expression somehow familiar. "The horse is entered into the race, has been for the last three months. As part of the race conditions, we feed, water and exercise him for that period. In case he is tampered with in any way, you understand. If, however, you decide to withdraw him, he is forfeit."

"Forfeit?" Mal looked at him sharply. "What kinda forfeit?"

"He belongs to us. And as we're not in the business of actually owning horses, he would be sold on."

"To who?"

The steward shrugged. "Anyone. I believe the last one was sold to a local catering firm."

"You mean he ended up on someone's dinner plate?"

"I can't comment."

Mal closed his mouth as Bethany grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it hard in her anxiety.

"That isn't going to happen," Freya said softly.

"No, it isn't." Mal glared at the steward. "So he has to run."

"Yes sir."

Mal glanced at the others. "Looks like we're owners."

"Good." The steward smiled, reminding Mal of someone else. "I'll just complete the paperwork." He headed towards the office.

"Tell me," Mal asked, just in passing. "Are you related to a man named Badger?"

The steward considered a moment. "I don't think so. Why?"

"Oh, nothing."

River was stroking the horse, feeling the strong musculature under the skin.

"You like him?" Freya asked, walking carefully over to her.

"I do. And he likes Mal." River laid her cheek on his shoulder. "A lot."

"I never really looked into an animal's mind. What's it like?"

"Complicated. But very simple." River smiled. "Try."

Freya laughed. "What, peeking into a horse brain? I think I'll leave that up to you."

"I'm really not happy about this," Simon said. "You've never ridden in a race before."

"But he's run in them. He knows what to do."

"And what happens if you fall? Or he falls? Or –"

She laid her hand on his arm, just gently. "I'll be fine, Simon."

"Mal, can't you stop her?" Jayne asked.

"Have you ever tried stopping River doing what she wants to do?" Freya put in before Mal could respond. "Bit like trying to stop a runaway train."

"Only more painful," River added. "Casmir won't let me get hurt."

"Oh, _mei-mei_," Simon murmured. "I hope you're right."

---

Mal couldn't sleep. He'd been lying on his back staring at the ceiling for hours, listening to Freya making small snuffling noises every so often since the healing incision in her hip meant she couldn't roll over properly. After counting sheep, goats, dogs and members of his crew jumping fences, and still not having any luck, he turned his wide awake mind to the issue of Reilly. And his treasure.

There was no way old Ironguts was lying. Whatever else he was, he was truthful, so if he said there was money somewhere, then money there was. But without something else to go on, he had no idea where it could be. The wallet was important, he knew that, otherwise Reilly wouldn't have wanted him to have it.

And the sequence was all too obvious. If he hadn't accepted the girls, hadn't been the man Reilly hoped he'd be and left them in the dust of Mead, he'd never have seen the envelope. Maybe Kilbrook had other instructions what to do if Mal had refused, but that was pretty irrelevant now. He hadn't refused, had taken on responsibility for six girls, and now had to figure out where this money was.

Okay. Back to the beginning. The capture. He'd watched it half a dozen times, and beyond it making his hands itch to get them round Reilly's throat, it still didn't give much in the way of clues. Maybe Reilly had thought Casmir was going to win. Maybe he'd rigged the race somehow to make _sure_ Casmir won.

No. Unlikely. Whatever else Reilly was, he was honest. Well, as honest as a man in his position could be. He'd never cheated, just relied on good old-fashioned luck to make sure he won. Mal thought back to the days during the war, to the times he'd alluded to before, when Reilly would bet on anything. He'd had the luck then. Even when he'd won because he'd been shot in the part of his anatomy he was betting on, it was never that bad. As if the other side knew it was all a game.

So no cheating. And Jayne had the right of it. There was no way that horse was likely to win, at least not on its previous record. And it wasn't a ringer as far as he could see. The DNA tests in his papers proved that. So Reilly wasn't relying on the horse.

What else was there? Only the wallet. The papers for the horse were obvious. _If_ the horse won, Mal could collect only if he owned it. But the others …

Hank'd done some checking on the Cortex. The whorehouse had indeed burned down, some five years previously, and he'd claimed the insurance. There'd been some talk of it being arson, but he'd finally been paid when the investigators decided it was probably someone taking a post-coital smoke in bed and ruled it an accident.

Mal let the images flow in his brain. A fire. Burning. Smoking. Smoke. Lots of smoke. Lots of …

"A smoke screen?" he muttered, his body tensing slightly. "But to what?"

"Coffee," Freya murmured next to him.

He looked down, saw her eyes were open. "Sorry. Did I wake you?"

"Yes."

"Sorry."

"If you're going to do this, I need coffee."

"It'll keep you awake."

"No, it'll let me keep you company." She sat up slowly, letting her hip adjust to the new position. "Pass me my robe, will you?"

"You don't have to."

"Yes I do. You're my husband. At least, that's what the man said. And you're not going to be able to sleep until you figure it out."

He grinned at her. "I love you," he said, leaning forward and kissing her softly.

"That's good. And I still need coffee."

---

The papers were spread over the table.

"So the whorehouse might be a smokescreen." Freya pushed her hair out of her eyes. "But to what? The rest of the papers?"

"Maybe." Mal took a mouthful of coffee, swilling it around his teeth before he swallowed. "Except the others don't mean much."

Freya picked up Casmir's ownership papers. "He's not worth much, is he?"

"Even if he wins, no, not really."

"So we put that to one side for the moment. What else?"

"The mine deeds."

"Active?"

Mal shook his head. "Worked out. Hank checked. Nothing's come out of that place for the last fifty years."

"So why did Reilly keep it?"

"Sentimental reasons?"

"Somehow I can't see the man you describe being that way inclined."

"He's done all this for his daughters," Mal reminded her.

"Point taken." She turned the paper over. "I don't suppose there could be a treasure map in invisible ink on this, could there?"

Mal smiled. "You're letting Bethany's pirate tales carry you away."

"Probably."

"Besides, I got Simon to scan them all. No hidden messages or maps."

She laughed. "You're as bad as I am."

"No. Just careful. Like you." He moved closer and kissed her. "But this isn't exactly getting us anywhere."

She sighed. "No, afraid it isn't." She picked up the receipt for the capture tab. "I suppose this got put in because it's the last thing he bought."

"Probably."

She turned it over in her fingers. "Bought it, recorded the message, then …" She sat up.

"What? What is it?"

Freya held out the receipt. "There's two items marked."

"Maybe he bought two tabs, in case one didn't work."

"I don't think so." She spoke slowly, as if she was running something through in her mind.

"What are you talking about?" Mal took the receipt. "It's just …" He paused. "Expensive."

"They did something else for him," Freya said. "Something that cost."

"Like what?"

"Like maybe we should take another look at the message."


	8. Chapter 8

Hank ran his hands through his hair and yawned hugely then leaned over the screen on the bridge. "Why do you think there's something to find?" he asked, scratching his chest.

"Call it a hunch."

Mal had woken Hank up, and once persuaded the ship wasn't on fire and Zoe wasn't giving birth, the pilot had made his way to the bridge.

"You get many of those at …" Hank glanced at the shipboard chronometer. "God, at this time of the night?"

"It's morning, Hank."

"Not from where my body sits."

"Well, it'll sit outside in the rain if you don't take a look."

Hank looked up at the bridge windows, and the stair rods hammering down. "Rain? Looks more like we should be building an ark."

"Hank –"

"Does Casmir like the going good or soft?" he asked idly, interrupting his captain without thinking. Then he saw the look on Mal's face and the thought occurred to him that might not have been too good an idea.

"What?"

"The going. The ground. When he runs."

"How the hell should I know?" Mal was rapidly coming to the end of his short temper.

"It should be in the papers. Or the form." Hank grinned. "Might be worth a flutter if he likes it soft."

In spite of himself Mal had to ask. "You know about horse racing? I thought cards was your game. And you said you and horses didn't get on."

"Only riding them. I've been known to put a little money on a filly or two."

"You want me to tell Zoe that?"

"I meant betting."

"Not the way I put it when I tell Zoe if you don't get your brain in gear and check out the tab!"

Hank looked at him. "This isn't doing your blood pressure any good."

"Do I have to get my gun and threaten you?"

Hank grinned. "See? All you had to do was ask nicely."

"Can you not shoot him?" Freya said, climbing up the steps behind them. "I think Zoe's only just got him house-trained. And it'll be messy." She held out a cup of coffee. "Here."

Hank took it gratefully. "I love you," he said sincerely.

"Hey, what about me?" Mal complained.

"I'm sure he loves you too," Freya laughed. "And I can't carry two." She looked at him. "Or do you want your poor, incapacitated wife to run backwards and forwards to the galley for you?"

He gave her one of his looks, but she just smiled. "Okay," he finally said. "Just this once." He walked off the bridge, saying over his shoulder, "You get onto the tab, Hank." As he passed Freya she could hear him muttering to himself, "My own gorram ship. At what point did it stop being my own gorram ship?"

Freya smiled and crossed the bridge to sit in the other chair. "You'd better get the information he wants, Hank. Otherwise he might just throw you off."

"I'm working on it," Hank promised. "Just letting the coffee wake me up enough so that I don't fry the damn thing."

"I'd rather you didn't."

Hank swallowed another mouthful then put the mug carefully down on the side console. He triggered the screen and pushed the tab into place, playing a concerto on the keys.

"Well?" Mal asked, climbing the steps two at a time, a cup of coffee in each hand. "Got anything?"

"I've only just started," Hank complained gently. "Give me a minute."

"Should've got River," Mal said quietly, handing one of the coffees to Freya. "Or done it myself."

They waited, one patiently, the other tapping his foot.

Until Hank let out a low whistle. "You wouldn't have found it."

Mal was at his side in an instant. "Found what?"

"Two files. Embedded deep in the tab's memory. If I hadn't been looking for them I doubt I've ever have known they were there."

"What are they? More messages?"

"Nope. They seem to be straightforward images."

"Play 'em."

Hank nodded, pressing a button and bringing up the first one. "What the hell's that?"

Freya leaned over Mal's shoulder. "Looks like the plans to a house."

"The whorehouse?" Mal suggested, glancing at her.

"Could be." She touched the screen. "And X marks the spot?" she added, her finger resting on a small red cross on what appeared to be the ground floor.

"Maybe." Mal touched Hank's shoulder. "And the other?"

Another image, this time of what looked like a tree with multiple branches lying on its side.

"A mine," Freya said softly.

"And another X," Mal agreed, pointing to an identical cross some distance in from the entrance. "I suppose it's safe to say it's the one in the papers."

"I don't see anything on there that would indicate otherwise."

"X?" Hank put in. "Like in treasure maps?"

"Could be," Mal said. "Only why two?"

"Divided up?" Freya suggested.

"Perhaps." Mal stood up and paced the floor a little.

"So are we going treasure hunting?" Hank asked, looking from one to the other.

"Seems we might," Freya said, watching her husband as he thought.

---

"Zoe, I want you, Jayne and River to go the whorehouse, see if there's anything at the spot marked." Mal tapped the screen. "Hank and I will go to the mine."

It was morning, and everyone was gathered in the dining area.

Hank looked unhappy. "Um, Mal …"

"I'd rather Hank came with me," Zoe said firmly. "If that's okay with you, sir."

"What? Why?"

"Call it a pregnant woman's whim."

Mal stared at her, but she wasn't going to enlighten him. Finally he threw his hands into the air. "Fine. Whatever. Take Hank. Jayne can come with me."

"What about me?" Freya asked. "Can't I do something?"

"Look after Ethan and Bethany and our six little visitors," Mal said.

"That wasn't quite what I had in mind."

"I know. But you ain't well enough yet to ride the mule, and I don't think walking to the whorehouse is gonna do you much good either. Don't you agree, doc?"

Simon nodded. "You need to rest as much as possible. Pushing yourself, willing it to get better quicker, even with your abilities, is only going to make it a longer job. Besides, it looks like I'm staying too." There was a hint of reproach in his voice.

"Do you want to be a part of this?" Mal asked, surprised.

"I think I've made it perfectly clear we're all in this," Simon pointed out. "And although it's fun sitting counting swabs all day, I would prefer a little fresh air."

Mal's eyes narrowed slightly at the sarcasm in his voice, but he said, "Fine. Run with Zoe."

Simon smiled. "Thanks."

"So you're leaving me with this boatload of females?" Freya wanted clarified.

"Should feel right at home. 'N' Kaylee'll be here."

"Aw, Cap'n –" Kaylee complained.

"Can't have all my crew gallivanting out and about. Someone able-bodied has to stay and mind the ship."

"I'll be crabby when you get home," Freya warned.

"But at least you ain't gonna fall down a mineshaft and undo all the doc's good work." Mal stood up. "Okay, people. Sooner we check this out, the quicker we'll know there ain't anything there." He headed for the door. "Be in the bay in ten minutes."

"Is everything all right?" Honoria asked, hovering in the corridor.

Mal smiled at her. "Shiny. Might be even better when we get back."

"Oh. Good." She nodded. "That's nice."

Mal patted her a little awkwardly on the shoulder and opened the door to his bunk. "You best be getting back to looking after your sisters," he advised, climbing down the ladder. "Make sure they don't stray."

"They won't."

Jayne watched as Honoria went back down the stairs, then went to get his guns. After the previous incident, he wasn't going to put himself in the way of trouble again. Not if it meant making his girl unhappy. River smiled as she drifted after him.

"Thanks," Hank breathed as Freya, Simon and Kaylee walked the other way towards the lower crew quarters. "Not sure I could stand going down a mine."

"You're going to have to tell Mal you're claustrophobic one day," Zoe pointed out.

"Yeah, but not when everyone else is listening."

"You still think they'd make fun of you?"

"I don't want to be put in the position of finding out." He grinned suddenly. "'Sides, I get to spend some time with my favourite woman."

"And Simon and River."

"Maybe we can persuade them to walk on ahead."

---

River was first in the cargo bay, having done nothing more than put on a pair of boots. She didn't really want to wear them, feeling much more at home in bare feet, but it was a compromise she could live with. And Mal had been very clear on the matter.

"You don't put 'em on, you don't go. Ain't having you walking on something bad and having to get your brother to stitch you up."

She didn't mind him looking out for her. It felt warm. Like her father should have been.

Movement outside made her look up.

"Miss?" It was the stable boy from yesterday, the one who had led Casmir out.

She smiled at him. "Hello," she said.

"I hope you don't mind, but I said I'd come and tell you."

She crossed the bay floor, her dress floating around her. "Tell me what?"

"You have to come and register. Mr York, the steward, should've said before you left, but I think it slipped his mind."

"And you volunteered? That's sweet."

The young man blushed. He can't have been more than nineteen or twenty, with short cropped blond hair that almost disappeared in the morning light. "I was coming this way anyway …" he dissembled.

"So I need to register to race?"

"Unless you're already down as a jockey."

Jayne stomped down the stairs, looking as intimidating as possible. "No, she ain't," he said. "And I still ain't happy about this."

"I am, Jayne," River answered, turning her face to him. "I want to do this."

He grumbled under his breath, then said, "Better make sure you win, then."

"Only it has to be before noon," the boy said, interrupting them. "After that it ain't legal and you won't be allowed to."

"Noon?" River's brow furrowed. "How long does it take?"

"'Bout an hour. Lots of forms."

"Do I need ID?" Which could be a problem, she thought but didn't say.

"Nah. Ain't that formal, but they want to know all sortsa stuff. Parents names, place of birth, that kinda thing." The young man grinned. "Takes longer if you ain't so good at forming your letters."

_That won't be problem_, she thought. _And I can have fun making things up_. "Did you fill them in?"

He grinned wider. "I get to ride occasionally, if there's no-one else."

"Would you have ridden Casmir?"

"Nope. Horse like him, even if he ain't won, his parentage would've had the better of any jockeys around."

"I'm sorry," River said, feeling the disappointment flowing from him.

"No problem. Might get a ride anyway." He glanced over his shoulder. "But the point is, you gotta come with me or you won't be able to either."

"What's that?" Mal asked, heading down the stairs. "You off somewhere?"

River looked up at him. "I have to register for the race. Now, it seems."

Mal shrugged. "If you're still sure you want to ride –"

"I am."

"Then you'd better go do that." He looked at the stable boy. "You just make sure she gets back here okay."

"Yes sir."

Jayne rumbled. "Mal, I don't think she should go alone."

"You think she can't look after herself?"

_He's jealous_, Mal heard in his mind.

_That right, albatross?_ he thought back. _Any reason to be?_

_Only because I want to get my own back._

_You can explain that later._

"I never said that," Jayne was going on. "But you said yourself this ain't a town for womenfolk. Too much likelihood of molestation."

Mal's eyebrows went up. "And what do you think would happen if River got molested?" he asked.

"I'll go with River," Kaylee said brightly, not wanting to even consider what her sister-in-law could do to any would-be attackers.

"Didn't I just say I wanted you to stay on board?" Mal asked. "'Cause I'm sure my mouth was moving at the time."

"It's okay," Freya said. "I can look after things. And I'm perfectly capable of using the com if anything bad looks like happening. You know, like aliens land or something."

"Ain't no such thing," Kaylee said softly. "Cows."

"You sure?" Mal looked at Freya, ignoring his mechanic.

"Positive."

Mal sighed. "Okay. Looks like Kaylee's going with River. Anyone else want to change? Got a deep and abiding urge to annoy me further?"

There was a general shaking of heads.

"It doesn't look like it, sir," Zoe confirmed, her lips twitching just a little.

"Good." He adjusted the gunbelt around his hips. "Keep in com contact, and don't do anything foolish." He straightened his shoulders and was suddenly the captain again. "Let's go."


	9. Chapter 9

The hoarding advertised, in bright pink and green neon, **OPENING SOON: FONG LAU's HOUSE OF IMPERIAL DELIGHTS**. This segued into a recording of a buxom blonde with an equally well-endowed brunette beckoning the watcher enticingly towards a pair of Oriental gates, which opened onto a scene reminiscent of the Arabian Nights – all soft mattresses and cushions, satin hangings, silk wafting in the breeze from fans waved by underclad boys …

"Well, I'll be there when it's built," Simon deadpanned.

"Not your cup of tea?" Zoe asked.

"Not even if I was in the middle of the desert dying of thirst."

The picture changed again, and Hank put his head on one side. "Is that even physically possible?"

Zoe ignored him and pointed to a broken area of fencing. "We need to get inside and take a look."

"And if they're building already?" Simon asked.

"Then we're going to have problems."

Hank pulled the fencing further open, and they squeezed through.

"When did they say this was going up?" Hank looked around. "Only I think they're late."

In front of them was an empty space, bordered on all sides by high fencing and more hoardings. The ground was clear, apart from general detritus piled high in the corners where the wind had blown it in from the street.

"Good news for us," Zoe said, looking at him. "Got the scanner?"

Hank tugged the small instrument from his pocket. "Got it."

"What are we actually looking for?" Simon asked. "Gold? Paper currency?"

"Whatever's here." Zoe shrugged. "Mal ain't even sure there's anything to find, and it's entirely possible it's been dug up already if there is. But we look."

Simon studied the plan they'd printed. "I think this is going to more or less useless," he said. "Without the house to orientate it, we're not going to have much luck."

"I don't know," Hank added unexpectedly. "Looks like the main doors opened onto the street we came in on, and the X is in the back half, so I'd say we've saved ourselves a third of the area."

"We still have to check it all," Zoe said firmly.

"What's the range of that thing?" Simon asked.

"Couple of metres."

"This could take a while."

-

Jayne's mind was elsewhere. Even as Mal brought the hover to a halt outside the old mine, he just stared into the distance, a dark look on his face.

"Are you with me?" Mal asked finally, waiting for him to climb down.

"Huh?"

Mal shook his head. "She ain't doing anything bad with that boy. You know that. She's just trying to make you jealous."

Jayne glared at him. "Well, it's working." He jumped down from the mule.

"What did you do?" Mal picked up the two lamps from out of the back, handing one to the big man.

For a moment it didn't look as if Jayne was going to answer, then he mumbled, "That Honoria. She tried to use her wiles on me."

"Honoria?" Mal's eyebrows raised. "What did she do?"

"Came over all half-naked in the galley. River walked in and –"

Mal felt a surge of anger. "What were you doing with Honor?"

"Nothing! Honest, Mal, I weren't doing a thing! Just standing there."

"So why's River –"

"I was staring!" Jayne admitted, his voice loud. "At her. At Honoria. Mal, she was half-naked …"

Mal found himself nodding, a picture entering his mind unbidden of a certain other redhead who had displayed her charms to him once. A'course, he'd ended up unconscious on the floor …

"It happens," he agreed. "So River walked in while you were doing the staring thing?"

"Standing there in the doorway. Told Honoria where to go, and …" Jayne stopped.

"And?"

"Look, we gonna stand around talking about how I made a fool of myself or are we gonna find this treasure?" the big man blustered.

The corner of Mal's mouth twitched up. "I think that's a reasonable request," he said, twisting the base of the lamp to light it. "Come on then."

-

River stared at the forms. "You need to know all this?" she asked, looking up at the steward.

Mr York smiled, and river felt her fingers itch. "It's the rules, my dear. You won't be able to ride unless you've completed every single question."

"I see."

"And don't forget to give a sample of your DNA."

"A sample?"

"In case we need to test it. Sometimes we do, sometimes we don't. Usually we just file it." York looked at his watch. "I have things to attend to," he said, making it appear he was far to busy to supervise a simple form. "If you need anything, just call out and Howell will help."

The stable lad grinned. "Anything at all," he agreed. "I'll only be outside."

River smiled at him, warming him through. "Thank you."

York nodded and walked out, Howell following.

"That boy likes you," Kaylee said, grinning. "And that ain't fair, making up to him just to make Jayne jealous."

"Don't you do it to Simon?" River asked, picking up the pen.

"No." Her sister-in-law looked at her, and she laughed. "Well, maybe occasionally. Just a little flirting. Keeps the spice in the relationship." She shook her head. "But you and Jayne … you don't need that. Not yet."

"He's never going to take me for granted," River stated.

"Oh, honey, he ain't gonna do that anyway," Kaylee said, then peered over her shoulder. "What are you … no, wait, that ain't … River, what the hell are you doing?"

"I have to give a DNA sample," River explained. "But it can't be mine. And I don't see anyone else around …" She finished the first line of the form, and against the request FULL NAME it now said _Kaywinnet Lee Frye_.

"You can't really …"

"When Casmir wins tomorrow, you'll be famous," River assured. "Now, what's your exact date of birth?"

-

The lamps provided a strong light, but the inky gloom inside the mine didn't seem to be pushed back very far.

Jayne peered into the darkness. "Mal, I'm beginning to think your pal was as loco as you are."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence, Jayne," Mal said dryly.

"You're welcome. So where is this treasure?"

"According to the map it's down the next incline and to the right." He led them forwards.

"This place feels all kinda wrong," Jayne complained.

"You think?"

"I know."

"Well, keep your eyes peeled."

"It ain't just that."

Mal grinned and looked round at him. "You claustrophobic?"

"Nah, I ain't got a problem with closed in spaces. If'n I had I'd'a asked for a bigger room." He chuckled. "I ain't like Hank."

"You know about him?" Mal was surprised.

"Figured it out. Things he's said. And the look on his face when you told him he was coming with us …" The chuckle turned into a low laugh. "And if you're wondering why I ain't pulled him over on it, I'm kinda holding it in reserve. For when he's truly pissed me off."

"Don't you go ragging him on it," Mal warned. "He's in a delicate condition."

"It's either that or give him a tattoo."

"Nope. Not that either."

Jayne sighed heavily. "You know, since you and Freya got together, you ain't no fun no more."

-

"Zoe, there's something there." Hank gestured towards a piece of ground that looked like every other piece of ground.

"You sure?"

Hank shrugged. "Something's registering, that's all. Metal. Looks like maybe a box."

"Big?"

"Not particularly."

Zoe went down onto her heels, moving a flyer for a rival whorehouse out of the way. "Better take a look see. Here?" She pointed.

"Left, left, left … stop, too far. That's it."

Zoe made a mark on the dirt then looked up at Simon, who pulled a small folding shovel from under his coat. "X marks the spot, doc," she said, standing up and moving out of the way.

-

Kaylee stared out of the window at the horses being exercised in the yard. "How much longer?" she asked.

"Not long," River said, wondering if she could get away with stating that Kaylee had been an amateur rider for three years back on Greenleaf.

-

"How much further, Mal?" Jayne was grumpy. Something was tickling between his shoulder blades, but no matter how hard he tried, how much he tuned his senses to the surroundings, he couldn't figure out what it was. _Damn that girl_, he thought. _Turning me around like this._

Mal checked the map. "I think we're here." He looked around. "As much as here is."

They were in a small cave, not more than twenty feet across and maybe double that long. It seemed to be a storage area, with barrels still stacked at one end.

Jayne walked over to them, lifting the lid. "Don't recommend we hang around here too long."

"How come?"

For answer the big man dipped a hand inside the barrel. Black particles sifted through his fingers. "This one's full of gunpowder. Figure maybe the others are too."

"Then we won't tarry." Mal nodded towards the left. "You take that side, I'll take this."

-

Hank took a turn as Simon stood back, rubbing the back of his hand across the sweat on his forehead. He left a streak of dirt across his skin.

"How much further?" he asked.

Zoe studied the small hand scanner. "Not far. Maybe another three feet?"

Hank lifted a bladeful of dirt up and slapped it down on the surface. "Just be glad it weren't in a cellar." he grinned.

-

"River."

"Almost done."

-

"Mal, got something." Jayne reached into a dark crevice and pulled out a box. "Ain't heavy."

"Doesn't have to be heavy to be worth something," Mal pointed out, crossing to him.

"You mean like jewels?" The big man shook the box. "Ain't rattling."

"Let's see what's inside."

Jayne set the box on a barrel and Mal opened the lid.

"Paper?" Jayne scoffed. "Ain't even notes."

Mal lifted out the bundle of documents. "No. But almost as good as."

"Huh? So it's worth a lot?"

"You're half right."

"Mal, you don't start making sense and I'm gonna get peeved."

"Yes, let's make sense." Someone on the dark, stepping forward.

Mal and Jayne turned, drawing their weapons, but against men already aiming, they were far too slow. Mal felt a burning pain along his rib cage as a bullet scraped a layer of skin away, and someone with far too good an aim shot Jayne's gun from his hand.

"Now, now," the man said, other figures behind him. "Don't want to kill you."

"You get the feeling there's a 'yet' hanging around there?" Jayne asked, trying to shake the ringing out of his hand.

Mal didn't answer, just glared at the men in front of him. He knew that, if the opportunity arose, he was going to take it. Mind, there was also the thought that Freya was going to be mighty unhappy he'd ruined another shirt.

-

"Got it," Hank grunted, lifting a tin box from the hole and handing it to Zoe. Simon helped him out of the hole and they crowded around.

"So?" Simon prompted. "What did we get?"

"Not sure," Zoe admitted, rooting through the papers inside.

"Well, ain't that nice." A voice, thick with amusement, drawling out from the darkness. "Looks like they did all the hard work for us."

Zoe straightened, closing the box carefully and handing it back to Hank. "Do we know you?" she asked, her hand inching towards her gun.

"Now, don't be doing that," the voice warned. "There's three on you right now, and you won't even get the chance to try."

"We ain't got anything worth stealing," Zoe said calmly. "So why don't you just go roll someone else?"

The voice laughed. "Oh, I think you do. And I'll be taking that box before you take another step."

-

On Serenity Freya looked up from her lesson with Bethany.

"Auntie Frey?" the little girl said, then caught it too. She gasped.

-

River signed the form with a flourish. "Finished!" she announced.

"About time," Kaylee complained. "Hope you remember all the lies you put down."

"I will." River grinned. "I'm very good at …" She stopped, her face blank.

"What?" Kaylee sat up. "River, what is it?"

"Jayne. And Simon." The young woman stood up, pushing her chair so violently backward that it screeched along the floor and hit the wall.

"Simon?" Kaylee's hand flew to her mouth.


	10. Chapter 10

Hank lifted his hands slowly. "Look, fellers, I don't know what you think this is, but –"

"Shut up," said the leader, coming into the daylight from the deep shadows, four men behind him. "I want the box."

"It's just papers." Zoe held it against her chest. "No money."

"Well, that's a pity. But my boss ain't gonna be reassured when I have to report back I took your word for it." He motioned with his gun. "Put it down on the ground and back up."

Zoe didn't move. "Or what?"

"I shoot you and take it anyway. Your choice." His voice hardened. "Put it down."

-

River ran out of the office into the yard.

"River, wait. What is it?" Kaylee demanded, at her heels.

"No time." She scanned the area and saw a small hover unattended.

"Where? Oh, River …"

"They're closer," the girl said, running for the vehicle and jumping on board. "Coming?"

-

"Auntie Frey?" Bethany hurried around the table. "Daddy? Uncle Jayne?"

"It's okay," Freya whispered, desperately angry at herself for not being able to go and help. She picked the little girl up and settled her in her lap, ignoring the stab of pain from her hip. "It's okay."

-

Zoe straightened up, stepping back from the box. "So, now you've got it and we ain't," she said softly. "You can just go on about your business."

"You think?"

"I know."

The man relaxed, just a little. "Now, you see, that's something of a hitch."

"No hitch far as I can see. You won. We lost."

Hank wanted to tell Zoe to shut up, not to antagonise this man any further, but his mouth wouldn't work. He backed up until he was against the hoarding.

The man in front of them was grinning. "Only losers have to pay up."

"You don't say," Zoe commented, her hand slapping her gun from its holster.

-

"No!" Bethany squealed, hiding her face in Freya's shoulder.

She held the little girl tight.

-

"No time," River muttered, throwing the hover around a corner as Kaylee hung on for dear life.

"What?"

"No time!" she shouted into the wind.

-

It was all over surprisingly quickly. Once the dust had settled and the smell of firearms had drifted away, bodies lay on the dirt, the earth soaking up their life blood.

Zoe holstered her gun and looked at the two men with her. "You okay?"

"Oh, peachy," Hank said, leaning back on the fence.

"I'm fine," Simon said, staring at the man he'd killed.

"Good." She pulled the comm from her pocket. "Captain. Captain, can you hear me?"

"They're in a mine," Hank pointed out. "Ain't likely to have any reception down there."

"Then we go now. Get Serenity and head out there."

"Why?" Simon asked, then berated himself as the answer came to him.

"Because if they were here waiting for us, then they know about the mine too."

"You think –" Hank began.

"Yeah."

"What about them?" Simon eyed the bodies, his face expressionless.

"Gunfire ain't that unusual in this town, as I'm sure you're aware." Zoe picked up the box, then looked at Simon. "They were going to kill us," she said softly. "They weren't planning on leaving any witnesses."

"I know." _It's just that I'm a doctor,_ he wanted to say. _I save lives, I don't take them_. Except that wasn't quite the case any more.

"Someone will find them eventually."

"Maybe even Fong Lau," Hank added, just happy he hadn't gotten dead. That bullet whistling past his ear to bury itself in the hoarding was as close as he ever wanted to get. "It'll take us a while to get back to Serenity, so we'd –"

"Zoe!" River had slipped through the fencing.

"What is it?" Serenity's first mate asked, then straightened as she saw the look on the young woman's face.

"Mal and Jayne. They need us!" She pulled the fencing back. "Come on!"

The three crew members hurried out.

"What …" Simon stared at the two-seater hover, Kaylee standing next to it. "Where did you –"

"Stole it." River climbed into the driver's seat.

"Doc, get your wife and Hank back to Serenity. Get her ready to fly in case we need you. We'll get to the mine quicker in this." She handed the box to him. "And keep that safe."

-

Mal winced as the rope tightened around his chest, rubbing the graze along his ribs again. "So you're planning on leaving us here to starve to death?"

The man in charge grinned. "Not particularly. We'll call your ship once we're off planet. Shouldn't be more than a day, maybe two, then they'll come find you."

"Thanks," Mal said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Just sit tight." He laughed. "We ain't getting paid to kill you." He glanced at his men. "Done?"

"Done."

"Shiny." He looked back at Mal. "Sorry to leave a fellow Browncoat like this, but you can see how it is."

"Sure. You're a thief and a liar."

The man laughed again. "Seems you've got me pegged. Still, my boss'll be wanting to see this soon as I can get it back." He picked up the box. "You take care, now." His laughter rang back through the cave as he turned on his heel and strode out.

"Did I do something in a former life I know nothing about?" Mal asked as the men left.

"I always thought it was the stuff you did in this life that'd get us killed," Jayne said, testing the ropes tying him to the mine support. "Frey know we're here?"

Mal nodded, then grimaced as the graze along his ribs pulled. He could feel fresh blood trickling down his skin as it reopened. "She's somewhat anxious."

"She ain't the only one." Jayne struggled a bit more, but only succeeded in tightening the ropes around his chest. "And they took Binky."

"They took everything, Jayne," Mal said, his patience being sorely tested.

"I mean otherwise I coulda got us out of here."

"Really."

"This ain't good."

"You think you could state something more blindingly obvious?"

"Just saying, Mal."

"Well, don't."

"Figure the girls are out there?"

"Hope not."

"Yeah, me too, but you think they are?"

"Probably. Or they're on their way." Mal squirmed, feeling blood dripping down his fingers. It would just put the icing on a perfect day if he managed to rub his skin open all the way to an artery or something.

"You're cutting yourself to ribbons," Jayne said.

"Yeah, well, don't see you doing no better."

"If'n I could get to ya, maybe we could do something."

"Somehow I've a notion that's unlikely."

"Ya know, they could've been more considerate. Leaving that stuff so close."

Mal looked at the barrels of gunpowder. "You think?"

"I mean, it ain't like we're gonna –"

"Shh."

"What?"

"Listen."

"Don't hear … Shit."

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Think so."

From out in the darkness of the tunnel, sparking like a damn firework, the flame raced along the fuse, splitting as it headed for the barrels.

"Shit."

-

The hover had barely touched down when River was out, running, into the cave mouth. Barely pausing she snatched up Jayne's knife and hurtled into the darkness.

"River!" Zoe shouted.

"Stay!" River called back over her shoulder, her voice echoing. "In case they come back …"

Zoe stood impotently, knowing she'd never be able to follow River in the dark, just praying she had it right.

-

"Mal …"

"I know."

"I don't want to end up splattered all over the walls."

"You think I do?"

The men redoubled their efforts, but the ropes were too tight.

"It's almost there, Mal," Jayne grunted, struggling.

"Yeah." His eyes on the fuse closest to him, Mal was suddenly still. There was so much he wanted to say but it got caught in his throat. How much he wanted to live. How he wanted to see his son grow to manhood, to see his wife … his Freya … to hold her again. To say he was so sorry for this. For being such a _hwoon dahn_, for not being there sooner, for not growing old with her …

"Giving up?" River asked, running into the cave mouth.

Jayne's jaw dropped. "Get outta here!" he shouted. "The gunpowder –"

"I know." She flashed him a brilliant smile and began. River danced. That was the only way of describing it. Her blade cutting through the air, coming down on the hissing fuses, she danced around the cave, spinning and twisting to get them all.

Mal watched the last heading towards him, to the barrel right next to him.

"River …" he muttered.

She somersaulted, the knife coming down an inch from his nose and severing the fuse.

"Yes, captain?" she asked, her dark eyes gazing into his.

"Cutting that kinda close, weren't you, albatross?"

She glared at him. "Just for that I think I should leave you here."

"Rather you didn't."

"I suppose not. Freya wouldn't like it." Still, she went to Jayne first, slicing through his bonds.

-

"Are they okay?" Bethany asked, seeing Freya's face relax.

"That they are, sweetie." She smiled. "That they are."

-

"Hey," Jayne said, grinning at River as he massaged his wrists, rubbing the blood on them away.

"Hello." She leaned across and kissed him softly.

"You felt like making an entrance?"

"I had to wait outside for the longest time to do so," she agreed, stepping behind Mal and cutting the ropes.

"We need to have a word about that," Mal said, using the post to haul himself to his feet. "And isn't that Jayne's knife?"

"Binky!" Jayne hadn't realised, and reached for her. River laid the steel in his hands with reverential care. "Where'd you find her?"

"They left all your weapons in the shaft. Probably to make sure everyone knew it was you who had died."

"Then since I'm feeling a mite naked …" Mal indicated the exit. "Shall we?"

"I don't mind if I do, Captain," River said, curtseying.

"Where are the others?" Mal asked as they hurried into the shaft.

"Zoe's outside. They had a slight … contretemps."

"They okay?"

"Shiny. But I couldn't bring the rest of them." She pointed. "There."

Two gunbelts lay on the hard-packed soil, along with various other knives and a pair of knuckle dusters that had been on Jayne's person. The big man picked up the weapons, passing Mal his, but River intercepted. Taking Mal's pistol, she cocked it, the sound loud in the confined space.

"Run," she said conversationally, heading back the way they'd come.

"What?" Mal called after her. "River … what the hell are you doing?"

"Verisimilitude, Captain. Run." She turned, her dress floating out around her and smiled at them, then disappeared around the corner.

"Mal …" Jayne began.

As the feeling of something bad about to happen prickled up his back, Mal heard a gunshot deep in the mine. He spoke softly. "Shit." He ran, hard as he could, ignoring the pain in his side, knowing the others were hard on his heels.

As he reached the exit to the mine, the explosion rocked the ground, knocking him from his feet and sending dust and debris out of the entrance. Stones and small rocks bounced around him, smacking him in the back, catching the wound he'd already received. He felt hands under his arms, dragging him outside into the clear air. He lay still, waiting for the ringing in his ears to go away.

Jayne dropped next to him, rolling onto his back. "You still so pissed about that Honoria you're trying to kill me?" he asked River as she stood over them.

"They need to think you're dead. If they do, we can get the box back."


	11. Chapter 11

"Sir." Zoe stood over him, the soft grey top she was wearing moving in the breeze enough so that he could see the brown swell of her belly underneath. "Not dead yet?"

"Seems not, Zo," Mal said, his gaze transfixed for a moment until he had the grace to look away. "Ain't for want of trying, though."

"I'm sure Freya'll be happy to hear that." Her tone was dry, and she was perfectly well aware of the direction of his stare.

"She is." He pulled himself into a sitting position. "Where are the others?"

"Waiting to hear that you're okay." She pulled the com out of her pocket, thumbing the switch.

"No!" Mal said quickly. "Don't."

Zoe released the button slowly. "Sir?"

"Someone told them."

"Someone?" Jayne looked sideways at him. "You ain't thinking it's one of us, are ya?"

"No. Strange to say, I ain't." Mal rested his arms on his knees. "But I've got a fair notion of who it was."

"Sir?" Zoe asked.

River was nodding. "I think you're right," she murmured. She held out her hand to help him to his feet.

"I can get up by myself, little one," Mal said shortly, doing just that. "_Tzao gao_, why the gorram hell does it have to hurt almost as much as getting shot?" he complained, holding his side.

"So now what?" Jayne asked, standing more easily. "Back to Serenity? Only if they're watching …"

"No, not there. Well, we're not, but the girls are."

"To do what?" Zoe asked, letting his suggestion that she was a 'girl' slide for the moment.

"Tell Freya I'm dead."

"Is that a good idea, sir?"

"It's okay, she knows I'm not, but … did they get your half of the papers?"

"No sir."

"Then they'll be pissed, and want the rest. Except we have to make it on our terms, the way we want it." Mal eased the wet shirt away from his body, biting back a curse as it pulled.

"Are you planning?" Jayne asked, his face falling. "Only you know what happens sometimes with your plans."

"Only when people don't do what they're supposed to." Mal nodded slowly. "No. This time we get the upper hand. And to do that we're gonna have to stay dead."

"And where do you propose to keep your mouldering and corpsified bodies while you decide what next?" Zoe inquired.

"Dismembered and somewhat flattened, actually," Mal pointed out. "Not sure." He grinned. "But I know a man who might."

---

"Mr Kilbrook." Mal nodded at the image on the public booth.

"Captain Reynolds. I'm surprised to hear from you." The lawyer didn't look surprised at all. Something to do with his profession, probably.

"I need a favour."

"Really."

"Just a place to stay hidden for a day or two."

Now Kilbrook sat up. "Are you in trouble, Captain? As I explained before, I don't do that sort of work –"

"No trouble." Mal paused a microsecond. "Well, no more'n I'm normally in."

"Then why –"

"I can't go back to my ship just yet, and I ain't too sure about the hotels around here, whether they're … and Reilly trusted you."

"That's a back-handed recommendation."

"Only one I got."

Kilbrook considered the man on the screen in front of him. Reynolds was dirty, his hair was a mess and he looked dog-tired, but there was a fierceness, a determination in his eyes that he understood. "I have a house. It's on the edge of town, away from everyone. It's not in use at the moment. I think I can let you use it."

Mal smiled. "Thanks."

"I'll send you my bill." His lips twitched.

"That'll be … interesting."

"Or perhaps I'll just let you buy me a drink one day and you can tell me what this is all about."

"You're on."

"I won't meet you there, if you don't mind. Being seen in the company of someone like yourself won't do my reputation any good."

Mal smiled. "Just tell me where it is and how to get in." The smile widened. "Unless you'd like me to break the door down?"

"I'd rather you didn't. It's in the oldest part of town, off Jambeau Street …"

---

Kilbrook's house was, as promised, on the edge of town. It was a three storey building, all carved balusters and curlicued decoration, with a large garden and a high wall, and – more importantly – a rear entrance that wasn't overlooked, leading out into the desert.

"Perfect," Mal said, opening the door with the key he found waiting for him. They'd used River's stolen hover, dumping it while still a walk from the house, leaving Zoe and their psychic rescuer to take their own vehicle back to Serenity to get Simon.

"Mal, you sure got a weird idea of what's perfect," Jayne complained, stomping inside.

"Hey, don't do that." Mal sneezed and winced as the graze along his ribs pulled yet again. "Kilbrook was right," he wheezed. "No-one's used this in a while."

Dust lay thick on the floor, now hanging in the air as it was disturbed by their boots, and the covers that protected the furniture were grey with it.

"How long d'we have to say here, Mal?" Jayne asked, his own nose itching.

"Not long." Mal carefully pulled a cover from a chair, trying to catch as much of the cloying particles as possible. "A day or two max. Probably a lot less." He sat down. "They've got one half of the papers, and by now they've figured Zoe got the other. But they're unlikely to come and try for ours yet."

"How come?" the big man wanted to know, copying Mal's actions and sitting on a hefty sofa. "Why ain't they just gonna try and storm Serenity?"

"Would you?"

"Hell, no," Jayne said scornfully. "But I ain't stupid."

"And you think these guys are?"

"'Cording to Zoe, there's four of 'em who ain't gonna be thinking at all no more. And if'n it had been me, I'd'a shot us dead, first chance. None of this crap with the gunpowder."

"You have a point there," Mal conceded, hearing a familiar shuttle land close by. "So not the sharpest tools in the box. But that don't mean the person they're working for hasn't got all their faculties."

"Any idea who it is?"

"Some. Just find it hard to believe."

"So who –"

He was interrupted by the door flinging open and Freya hobbling through as fast as she could, Simon only half a pace behind her.

"Mal," she said, her heart starting to beat again at actually seeing he was safe, even though she'd known.

"Hey. Missed me?" he joked.

"Looks like they didn't." She leaned on her stick. "Didn't duck in time?"

"Must be getting old."

Finally she smiled a little. "No. Careless, maybe. Old, never."

Simon knelt down in the dust. "Shirt, Mal."

Mal pushed his suspenders from his shoulders. "You just can't wait to get me naked, can you, doc? Something you wanna tell me?" He undid his buttons, flinching as he pulled his arms out of the sleeves. The light glinted on the gold cross sitting around his neck.

"How about … sit still, this is going to hurt?"

"Already does."

"Then this won't make it much worse."

"Much?"

Simon ignored him as he continued his work.

"Mal, can you come back one time without an extra hole in you?" Freya asked, covering her concern with irritation.

"Wasn't my idea." He hissed as Simon sprayed the area with antiseptic. "Dammit, doc, you said it wasn't gonna be much worse!"

"Sorry, Mal, but you were in very dirty environment. And it doesn't look to have improved. Just be glad I'm not intending to clean it out much more than this until I can get you back to Serenity."

"Could be a day or two."

"I'll try and stop you dying from an infection, then." He reached into his bag to prepare a hypo with antibiotics.

"I'd be grateful."

"That could have been permanent," Freya pointed out, picking up Mal's shirt and hugging it to her.

"Still wasn't my idea." He watched her standing there, her brown eyes fixed on his face. "My favourite shirt, too," he said softly.

"I'd rather it was that than you." She could smell his blood on the fabric, through the scent of him. "Mal, when Zoe waved to say there'd been a cave-in … I mean, I knew it wasn't true, that it was in case … but if I hadn't already known you were okay …"

Mal stood up, taking her into his arms, feeling the shirt she still clutched between them. "Good job you did know then." He stroked her back, imagining the tattoo on her skin almost grey with worry and the discomfort she was in. "I'm sorry, Frey." Apologising for almost not seeing his son grow to manhood, for not being able to hold her again, for very nearly not growing old with her …

She let go of the shirt, wrapping her arms around him. "Next time someone offers you six girls, say no," she advised. "Not sure my poor battered body could take it."

"Hey, not sure mine could either."

"So you have a plan?"

"Working on it."

"Something to do with the stuff in Zoe's box?"

"Papers. Well, half. Not too sure what to, but it looks like land deeds."

She moved back enough to look into his eyes. "More clues?"

"No. I think this is the real deal. Only it 'ppears Reilly was still a mite distrustful. We've got the signed section, but the bad guys have the other half."

"They're gonna come looking."

"God, I hope so."

Simon sat back on the sofa. "Can I finish wrapping that now?" He pointed towards the graze still oozing on Mal's side."

Mal let go of Freya and glanced down. "Be glad if you did." He grinned. "Got some planning to finish."

---

"Gorramit."

"What?"

"Is this it?"

"Of course. You think I'd gyp you?"

"That _hwoon dahn_ …"

"What?"

"It's not all here."

"You ain't making sense."

"There's only half here. The other part, with the signatures on, it's missing."

"Well, Jarvis ain't back yet. Maybe he's got it."

"And maybe he's rotting his guts out somewhere."

"Look, I brought back what you said."

"And had to kill Mal to do it, didn't you?"

"He'd seen us."

"And if you'd left him alive we might have had something to bargain with."

"You want I should go and collect the pieces?"

"No. There ain't nothing we can do for a while."

"We could always –"

"No, we couldn't. That's why I'm the boss and you ain't. You'd go charging in there, guns blazing, and get us all killed."

"There's more of us –"

"And they've just lost their captain and their friend. You think that don't make a difference?"

"Well, I guess it might."

"You stick to working out how to spend your share. Let me do the planning."

"You got an idea?"

"Oh, yeah. Surely have."


	12. Chapter 12

The shuttle landed back on Serenity's stubby extender, locking in place and being drawn into place. As Freya stepped out into the cargo bay, three people were waiting for her.

"Oh, honey," Hil Dwyer said, hurrying across the bay floor as Freya negotiated the steps. "Are you okay?"

"Course she's not okay," Harry Reynolds said, climbing the stairs two at a time until he was level with her. He looked closely at her. "Can't expect you to be."

Monty hovered in the background, his big face tense and anxious, his beard almost quivering with concern.

"How did you -" Freya began, but Harry put his arm around her shoulders.

"Zoe called," he explained. "Said … she told us there's been a cave-in at a mine. That Mal …" His voice caught. "It ain't true, is it?"

"We figured out the clues, Harry," Freya said, barely managing to speak. "What it meant. Mal went to -" She sat down suddenly on the stairs, jarring her hip, tears forming in her eyes. "Oh, I wish we'd never come to this damn planet!" she whispered.

"Hey, hey!" Harry sat down next to her, pulling her close to him. "Don't, Freya. Mal wouldn't want you to … Look, maybe they're still alive. Might be. Could be a section came down and they're further in."

"We should be out there," Monty said unexpectedly. "Get some crews digging …"

"They already are. That's why I had to fly back alone. Zoe and the others are still … they'll come back with the hover before dark … but there's only so much room in the mine …" Her voice died away.

"So he was after Reilly's treasure?" Hil asked.

"Half of it. Zoe and … they got some, but … it's just papers. It doesn't mean a thing without …" She sobbed suddenly. "It ain't worth Mal's life!"

"You shoulda called us. We'd've …" Harry paused. "We'd've helped."

"I know." Freya sat up, looking ashamed of her outburst. "And you're right. Maybe Mal is still … still alive. I can't give up hope yet."

"What about the race tomorrow?" Hil asked. "That horse of yours … you're the owner now."

Harry shot her a hard look, squeezing Freya's shoulder. "She don't have to go if she don't want to."

"I'm not," Freya admitted. "I can't. Not be around all those happy people. I just can't."

Hil wouldn't leave it. "Then who's -"

"Zoe's taking everyone. Except Kaylee. She's … Zoe said she's refusing. Mal was like a big brother to her, and she - we'll stay behind."

"Frey, I wish I could help," Harry said softly. "I know how little girl feels. What with Vinnie gone, Mal's near enough most all the family I got …" He stopped, shaking his head.

Freya looked into his eyes, so like Mal's. "Could you … would you go with them? Zoe and Simon and … I'd rather they had someone with them."

"I don't know -"

"Please?"

"Okay. All right." Harry gave in. "I'll go."

"Me too," Monty rumbled unexpectedly. "Can't let anything happen to any of 'em."

Freya managed to drag up a smile. "Thanks."

"Well, I'd go too, but I've got to leave," Hil said apologetically. "I got a job to get to, been planned a long while, and if I'm late it'll just be given to someone else."

"If it's work, I know Mal'd understand." Freya hung onto the railing and climbed laboriously to her feet. "Now, if you don't mind, I think I'd like to be alone for while."

"You know, I think that's a grand plan," Harry said, standing up. "You look like you need to get some rest before you fall over."

"It's not rest I need, Harry," Freya said softly. "It's Mal."

No-one had an answer to that.

---

Mal turned over yet again, trying to find some comfort on the sofa.

"You gonna do that all night?" Jayne asked from the depths of the armchair.

"Thought you were asleep."

"Ain't happening."

"No. I know what you mean." Mal pounded the cushion behind his head. "Never do sleep well without Freya next to me."

Jayne gave a soft bark of laughter. "Up 'til a while back I never had that problem. 'Specially with my girls on the wall. 'Cept now there's a kinda hole where River goes …"

"Jayne, that sounds a hell of a lot like sentiment," Mal pointed out, his lips lifting. "Didn't think you had it in you."

"I don't," the big man insisted.

"Singing love songs, waxing poetical … she's changed you."

"Not that much." He pushed his shoulders back into the seat. "Still prefer to shoot someone than talk to 'em."

"You're talking to me."

"Don't think it ain't never crossed my mind."

Mal smiled. "Oh, I know it has."

There was silence in the room for a few minutes, then Jayne stirred again. "It ain't much fun, this being dead."

"Seriously not sure it's meant to be."

"There's other things I'd rather be doing."

"Yeah. Me too."

"Any more sign of you knocking Freya up?"

Mal lifted his head and glared at the mercenary in the dark. "Not so far."

"Only with Zoe carrying Hank's sprog, kinda figured you might be feeling left out."

"We have a son, Jayne. I would've thought you'd notice."

"Oh, hell, I know that. But you want a little girl. I know that too."

"Be nice," Mal conceded.

"Someone to look after and tie ribbons in her hair."

"Mmn."

"Someone to bring a guy like me home one day." Jayne chuckled.

"I'd hope she had more taste."

"Yeah, me too."

"You and River talked about having a kid?"

Jayne blushed, glad the darkness covered the rare sight. "Nah. We've only just got together, Mal. And I ain't sure there should be another me out there anyway."

"And if River has other plans?"

There was a pause. "You think she wants a baby?"

"Look at how she is with Bethie and Ethan."

"Yeah, but they're …" He let the possibility sink in. "You really think I might be a dad some day?"

"I think it's more than likely."

"That's kinda …"

"Scary?"

"Little bit."

"You know, they could be psychic, if you do have kids with River."

"They? We gone from one to lots?"

"You never know."

"Dammit, Mal, now I really ain't gonna be able to get to sleep."

Mal smiled and pulled the blanket further up around his neck. "Glad to help," he said, and closed his eyes.

---

"It looks like a good day for a race," Hank said, peering out into the small light of Mead's early morning.

"Be better if you'd slept at all," Zoe said, following him to the door.

"Just keeping you company," Hank smiled.

"Doubt anyone got that much in the way of rest last night. I heard Freya go into the galley around three, and I don't think she came back."

"Missing Mal." He glanced around, making sure no-one else was listening. "If she's like this now, what'd she be like if -"

"Pray we never have to find out," Zoe said equally quietly. "Come on. We all need to eat. It's going to be a big day."

---

"I want you to go," Freya said firmly.

"But I don't … we agreed …" Kaylee was arguing, looking around the rest of the crew gathered at the table.

"Please, Kaylee." She sighed. "I'd feel better if you'd go with them. Take Bethany and Ethan. Please."

Kaylee opened her mouth again, but felt something odd in her mind. It wasn't a thought as such, just a deep concern that she and the children should be protected. Still, this wasn't what had been arranged. "I just hate the idea of you bein' here on your own. And I really feel -"

"I'll stay," Honoria put in unexpectedly from the doorway. "I've got a headache, and horses do nothing for me."

"I don't need company," Freya said sharply, then visibly drew back. "I'm sorry, but I don't. I ain't gonna do anything stupid, in case that's what you're wondering."

"We never considered you would." Zoe leaned forward. "If we did, none of us would be going."

"And I don't mind staying," Honoria repeated.

"If you've got a headache I can get you a painkiller," Simon offered.

The girl smiled. "It'll go away. I'd just like to lie down in my room for a while. Having five sisters around all the time is tiring." She looked at Freya. "If you don't mind. You won't even know I'm there."

"I suppose …" Freya nodded. "Okay."

River stood up. "We have to get going. I need to be there very soon."

"Then we'd better gather ourselves up," Zoe said, pushing her chair back. "We don't want to keep the winner waiting."

---

"Come on," River shouted, standing on the ramp and staring into Serenity's interior. "If you don't hurry up I'll have to go without you!"

"Sorry we're late," Harry said behind her. "Didn't know you were waiting for us."

River turned and smiled at him and Monty. "It's not you. It's the others."

"Hold your horses," Hank called, carrying Ethan on his hip down the stairs.

"If you make bad jokes like that again …" River threatened.

"We're here," Kaylee said, moving the five Reilly girls out of the common room in front of her, Simon carrying Bethany.

"Do we have to?" Rosemary whined. "It'll be boring."

"Can we place any bets?" Valentia asked.

"No."

"Then why -"

"Because we say so." Zoe appeared on the top catwalk. "We all ready?"

"Come _on_!" River called again, stamping her foot impatiently.

Mal watched from a safe distance as the large group of people left his boat and started towards the racetrack.

"Thought Kaylee was staying behind?" Jayne murmured, watching the mechanic walking hand in hand with Bethany.

"Freya wasn't happy about that. She felt something could happen to her."

"Oh, I ain't saying anything. Better Kaylee does go. Keep out of the way." He looked up into the sky. "Looks like it's gonna stay okay. So what do we do now?"

"We wait."

---

"I hate this," Hank muttered to Zoe as they entered the owner's enclosure. "Not being there."

"So do I, dear," Zoe agreed, her lips barely moving. She was keeping an eye on Harry, Monty and their charges, while Simon and Kaylee rounded up any stragglers. "But Mal's right. This is the perfect opportunity for them to come after the box. Except they're not going to do that with Serenity full of people."

"But Frey -"

"Can take care of herself." She looked at him, his grey eyes tight with worry. "And she ain't alone."

"I'm kinda glad Honoria got a headache," Hank said softly. "At least she's got some female company."

"Yeah," Zoe said, her tone just a little off. "That's good." She shook her head. "You'd better check in, make sure everything's okay."

Hank nodded and melted away to find a quiet spot to wave Mal.

---

River adjusted the hard cap she was wearing, making sure all her hair was underneath. She was in borrowed silks, and they were a little big, but she'd taken time the night before to paint Serenity's name in Chinese on a square of fabric, and she now wore this tied to her chest with tapes.

Casmir put down his head and pushed at her slightly, as if telling her to get up on his back. She laughed and leaped lightly into the saddle, settling her feet in the high stirrups.

"Ready," she whispered, and back on Serenity Freya smiled.

---

"… and riding Casmir at 100-1 is K L Frye." The announcer couldn't have put more disinterest into his voice if he'd tried.

"She up?" Hank asked, sliding in next to Zoe.

"Ready, I guess." Zoe watched the young psychic. If she hadn't known River was a woman, she'd be hard pressed to tell her sex. "Everything okay?"

"Fine and dandy. They're waiting."

"Then that's all we can do too."

Hank nodded then looked around. "Where's Harry and Monty?"

---

Casmir was ready. His ears were pricked forward, and as he was led into the electronic stalls he was tamping the soil with his hooves.

"Easy," River murmured with both her voice and mind.

He understood and settled a little.

"Okay?" Howell called from the stall next to her.

She smiled. "Shiny."

He gave her the thumbs up, then concentrated on getting his own mount ready. River watched him from the corner of her eye, the way his hands comforted the big bay beneath him, how he murmured soothing words continuously. He'd been lucky - Osiris Lad's regular jockey had been thrown during the previous event and deemed unfit to race. The only other registered rider available at such short notice was Howell, and much to the consternation of the other jockeys he was now up on the favourite. The odds were lengthening somewhat, but not by that much. Everyone pretty much knew Osiris Lad could win this with a sack of oats on his back. That didn't stop Howell from giving it his best.

The lights in front of them turned red. It was the signal that all the stalls were filled and any second now … the lights flashed green, the barrier went up, and they were off.


	13. Chapter 13

Casmir leaped forward, finding himself amongst the pack as they all pulled into the first bend. River could feel his muscles bunching and relaxing, moving smoothly under his skin between her knees, responding to every movement of her hands, but even more to her thoughts. As she saw an opening begin to form, Casmir surged ahead, barely scraping through, but now he was in front.

Just on the edge of her hearing she could perceive the roaring of the crowd, like a huge wave crashing forever onto the shore, yet here, riding this wonderful horse, she was in a world of her own, just being River.

-

"You sure they're coming?" Jayne asked, barely making the words have any sound.

"They won't get another opportunity," Mal breathed.

"Yeah, but if they take much longer, the others'll -"

"Jayne."

Instantly the big man was still.

-

She could feel the other horses very close, bunched up behind her, and she risked a glance to her right. Howell was almost level on Osiris Lad, not using the whip like the other jockeys were, just urging the horse on with his knees and voice.

Ahead she could see the winning post, coming up very fast, even though she seemed to be hardly moving. It would only take holding on to win …

-

Honor waited outside the galley in the corridor to the engine room. As instructed she was keeping at eye on Freya, making sure she didn't interfere. The woman was currently sitting at the table, a coffee and comunit in front of her. She seemed to be waiting, poised, ready for something to happen.

The watching girl shivered slightly.

-

There was a flash to the left, then a bell, and Casmir began to pull up. The race was over, and the rush of sound filled River's world again. Other horses and riders jostled her, but she waited, listening to the voices as they thought about what had just happened.

"Miss?" Howell looked at her, his face glowing.

-

"Heads up, Frey. They're inside." The voice was tinny, distorted slightly by the comunit, but Honoria was certain she knew the speaker. And if that was the case … She ran down the stairs, through the common area and into the bay.

"Momma, don't, it's a trap!" Honoria shouted, but she was too late.

Mal stood on the ramp, Jayne next to him, both aiming their weapons at Hil Dywer and her men.

"Mal …" Hil said, her mouth dropping, her hand very close to her gun.

"Don't," Mal warned. "Only so many shots you can take before one of us gets you." He glanced at Freya as she stepped onto the catwalk above, a rifle aimed unerringly at the other woman's head. "And I figure she'd kinda like you to try." He looked across at Honoria. "Momma?"

"She's my mother," the redhead said, her face stony.

"Thought you didn't marry Reilly."

Hil shrugged. "I lied."

"Guess you did."

"And I ain't the only one." She looked up at Freya. "I believed you. All that about how broken you were over this man …"

Freya hefted her rifle a little higher. "If you'd succeeded it would have been a whole lot worse." She levelled the gun at Hil. "Did you really expect to betray Mal and get away with it?"

"Frey." Mal shook his head slightly. "It ain't worth it."

"She tried to kill you."

"Still ain't worth it."

There was a long pause, during which Mal was waiting for the gunshot, for the splatter of blood and brains over the cargo bay, but it never came. He saw Freya relax just a little, and he smiled slightly.

"Got it, Mal," Harry said, striding up the ramp behind him, the box held high, Monty at his heels.

"You … you been on my ship?" Hil's jaw dropped further.

"Two can play at this game," Mal pointed out. "You and your boys come to Serenity, Harry and Monty go to your ship. Only I'm kinda curious … what were you planning on doing with Frey once you got the box?"

Hil shrugged. "Not sure."

"Don't lie to me, Hil." Mal's voice was hard. "Another little 'accident'?"

"I don't know her, Mal. Not like you."

Mal's finger tightened for a moment on the trigger, but he forced himself to relax and smile. "Good job you never got the chance."

"How did you know?" Hil asked, honestly curious. "What told you it was me?"

"Truth to tell, I hoped I was wrong. But things you said at Reilly's wake, knowing just a little too much about his business … then you told Frey you had a job to get to."

"So?"

"You already told Pickett you were free."

"That's it? Just a few words and you put things together?" Hil couldn't believe it.

"That and the fact that Honoria looks kinda like you did once. Long time ago. 'Round the mouth." He didn't add that he'd only just noticed. "Besides, I knew Honor here was feeding someone. Only six people on board likely to, and the other girls weren't anywhere near as interested in what was going on." He looked at the young woman. "Don't seem to me Reilly named you well."

"_I_ called her that," Hil said.

"Then I apologise to Reilly. But not to you."

"And them?" Hil nodded towards Monty and Harry. "It could've been them."

"Nope, it couldn't. I trust them with my life."

"Thought you felt that way about me."

"Can't say I ever did, Hil. Not really. Soon as I figured who it was, they were the first people I told."

Hil let her hands drop away from her gunbelt. "So now what?"

"Maybe I should ask you the same. What would you do, if the tables were turned and you were in my position?"

Hil laughed. "I guess a slap on the wrist would be out of the question?"

Sudden anger flared in Mal's blue eyes. "You tried to have me killed, Hil!"

"No, now, that ain't strictly speaking the case. My boys here just took my instructions a little too literally." She looked around at her men.

"And they were?"

"To put you away somewhere safe." She shrugged. "It was their decision to make it permanent."

"Don't tell me, you'd've cried over my grave."

"Course I would. Ain't that many good Browncoats around we can afford to lose any."

"Good Browncoats don't steal from each other."

She stared at him. "What cloud do you live on?"

"Not like this." He shook his head. "Why, Hil? Why all this?"

"Why do you think? The money, of course."

"The money? Hil, Honoria would have gotten her share."

"Her share." Hil scoffed. "Yeah. A sixth of what that _hwoon dahn_ owed me. He took all my money, Mal! Gambled it away then came home and apologised. I had to go out to work! Just to pay the bills! I had enough. I left."

"And Honor?"

"He said he'd look after her. Then when the war came …"

"Why'd you join up?" Mal shook his head, trying to make it clear enough he could understand it. "You could have taken her back -"

"He'd married again. The serial bigamist that he was. I can't even guarantee I was the first." She laughed. "And I knew our cause was righteous. Remember that, Mal? Being righteous? Being so damn sure we were gonna win?"

He'd had enough. "You leave, Hil. Take your men and go. You've lost."

She glared at him, as if by sheer will she could make him drop dead. But she was no River. "And Honor's share?"

"She'll get it. Whatever else she is, she's Reilly's daughter. Gets her apportionment."

Hil nodded. "And the horse?"

"Don't push your luck, Hil. Casmir's mine. Whatever he makes goes to me and my crew. Don't worry, there'll be plenty for you to cheat Honor out of. Though if she's got the sense she was born with she'll figure out you ain't the kind of mother she needs."

The woman stared at him, as if she was working out the odds that he was going to shoot her in the back, but obviously decided he was still the honourable soldier. She lifted her head and strode out, her men following.

"Make sure they don't try and come back," Mal said to Jayne.

"On it," the mercenary said, loping after them.

"She didn't ask about the other girls," Monty said softly, shaking his head.

"She doesn't care."

"What happened to her, Mal? She was always so strong."

"I don't know. Maybe she just can't live with the peace like we can."

"She tried to get me to join some Browncoat movement."

Mal nodded. "Yeah."

"You think a war might be brewing?"

Mal didn't answer for a moment, thinking back over what he'd said to Hil only a few days ago, even though it seemed a lifetime.

"_We fight, we'll lose, Hil. It won't be glorious, like you seem to remember. It'll be hard, bloody and pointless. The Alliance have things … Hil, I have a wife and child. I want more kids. That's what's important to me right now."_

"_And? If it does happen?"_

_He sighed. "I'll defend them, Hil. Like you damn well know I would."_

"I hope not," he said finally, looking up at Freya.

"Yeah, me too." Monty scratched his chin. "You know, I'd maybe kinda feel more sympathy for her if she'd said she was aiming to give the money to the movement."

"Instead of being an honest thief?"

"Nah, Mal," Harry put in. "I reckon there's degrees of dishonesty, and she's half a compass away from the rest of us."

"You sure about that?"

"Course I'm sure." He slapped Mal on the back. "You wouldn't've done what she did. None of us would. Steal things, yeah. But kill like that? We're too good for that."

Mal couldn't help it. He laughed.

Freya headed down the stairs, holding onto the handrail. "You'd better get back to the racetrack," she called. "Find out what happened."

"We know what happened," Monty said. "Casmir won."

---

"He came second, Mal." Hank didn't seem that disappointed. "Closest finish they've had in years, 'parently. Less than a nose. Had to go to a capture to separate 'em."

Mal rubbed the horse's shoulder, the green and yellow sash of the runner-up still around his neck, his blanket secure. "That close?"

Hank glanced around at the rest of the crew, nodding. "It was the favourite won, but no-one was talking about him. Only about Casmir."

Mal smiled, feeling the hot breath on his neck. "Good lad," he murmured. "Maybe Reilly knew what he was doing after all."

York, the steward, bustled out of his office and smiled at Mal, even if it didn't reach his eyes. "I had heard you were … injured," he said, rubbing his hands.

"You'd heard I was dead," Mal corrected. "Plain to see I ain't."

"And I'm so pleased."

"Sure." Mal looked at Casmir. "So did someone buy him? Only I was kinda thinking -"

"Oh, yes," York interrupted. "There was some spirited bidding, and he went for the largest sum of the day."

"Really?"

"And I have it ready for you, less the handling 10% fee, of course."

"Of course." Mal's lips twitched, as did his gunhand. This man really could rub him up the wrong way without trying. He hadn't killed anyone so far, but the day wasn't over yet. "And who is the new owner?"

"Me."

Mal turned, and wondered if he was getting psychic in his old age. Or maybe living in such close proximity to Freya was rubbing off on him. Because he wasn't all that surprised. "Kilbrook."

The lawyer smiled. "Captain."

"You know each other, of course," York said. "I'll just get the papers ready for you to sign." He hurried off to the office, leaving the two men looking at each other.

"You paid more than for the winner," Mal said, smiling slightly. "Not sure that was such a good idea."

"I paid what he was worth, Captain."

Mal's eyebrows raised. "How'd you figure that?"

In answer Kilbrook turned to River. "Why did you pull him? He could have won."

"He knows," River said. "But he likes Howell."

"The boy who rode the winner?"

"He trusts him." River looked at the older man. "Take him on as your jockey and Casmir will win. Every race."

"You can promise that, can you?" Kilbrook asked, amused.

"Casmir does."

"And I can take your word for it."

"Take his. Look." She nodded towards the horse. Howell was standing next to him, smoothing his flank. Casmir was relaxed, almost leaning into the young man.

Kilbrook smiled. "I think you may be right."

"Of course I am."

Kilbrook felt the lightest feather touch of something on his mind, and he shivered. "As much fun as this is, I think I'd better sign the papers."

"Good idea," Mal agreed. "Then tomorrow I think we need to have a chat. I've got a proposition to put to you."

"Really? Is it going to cost me money?"

"You're a lawyer. Don't think that's possible."

Kilbrook laughed out loud. "It isn't." He strode away, still chuckling.

"Is Howell a Reader?" Mal asked softly as soon as Kilbrook was out of earshot.

River shook her head. "No. But he is talented on a subtle level. His hands are good, and with a horse like Casmir he will be successful."

"Did you really pull him?"

"No, Captain." She looked at him guilelessly, then added, "But I might have suggested it."

"Ain't that the same thing?"

She smiled and he found the thought _Would you do everything __**I**__ suggested_? settle in his mind.

"Enough of that, albatross," he warned, and she laughed.

"He wants to say goodbye."

"Who, Howell?"

"No, Casmir. He wishes you'd ridden him, just once."

"Now why would that be?"

"Reilly used to talk to him. Tell him about you. About the honourable man you were. And still are."

Mal raised his eyebrows. "Did he tell the horse about the … that treasure of his?"

"Yes." River smiled. "But it was a secret so he couldn't tell me."

"Secret." Mal shook his head. "Right."

"Say goodbye to him."

Feeling something of a fool, Serenity's captain walked over to the large horse, and Howell tactfully left them alone.

Mal leaned his head against Casmir, feeling the short dark hair on the horse's flank under his hand. "Good boy," he said, patting him gently. He grinned. "Wish I could keep you," he went on, "but you can plainly see there's no space. But Kilbrook'll take good care of you. Tell River if he ain't."

Casmir lifted his head, then lowered it, almost as if he were nodding.

"And you ride well for him. I figure he's good folk, so do your best."

For one brief moment Mal was back in his home on Shadow, and in front of him was a man on horseback, tall in the saddle, his thick dark hair falling over his forehead. He was reaching down his hand, to pull Mal up behind him, to ride out to cattle. His father, dead for more than thirty years. But it wasn't as his other memories were of him, faded and little more than feelings. This was crystal clear, Ethan Reynolds's face smiling, his blue eyes sharp and gentle. He felt the hand in his, enveloping his fingers, being lifted up, putting his arms around a strong waist … the image faded, and he was back in the yard.

"That you, albatross?" Mal asked quietly.

"No, Captain."

"Then -"

"Casmir wanted to give you something."

"He's a Reader?"

River laughed. "He's a horse."

Mal wanted to argue, but decided it was one he was unlikely to win. "Thank you," he whispered instead, patting Casmir's shoulder. He looked across at Howell. "Better take him in now, make sure he doesn't get cold."

"Yes sir." Howell led the horse back into his stall.

"We going home now, Cap'n?" Kaylee asked, leaning into Simon and holding onto Bethany's hand. "Kinda need to take a nap."

"Goin' home, _mei-mei_."

"Uncle Mal?" Bethany asked. "What about Casmir?"

Mal went down onto his heels and looked into the dark brown, trusting eyes of childhood. "He's gonna stay here. Going to a good home, too, so you don't have to worry about him."

"He likes you."

"Does he?"

"Told me."

Mal smiled. "Well, I kinda liked him too."

"Didn't you want to keep him?" Kaylee asked. "I thought maybe you might …"

Mal stood up. "I considered it, just for a moment. But we ain't got the wherewithal to keep body and boat together some days, let alone a horse. He's better off with Kilbrook."

"And maybe now I can deal properly with that bullet wound," Simon said pointedly.

"Ain't nothing but a scratch."

"As I'm sure I've said before -"

"And I'm sure you'll say again, you're the doctor around here." Mal laughed. "Come on," he added. "Freya's waiting."

---

"Everyone on board?" Mal asked, walking up the ramp. He'd had a good night's sleep, completed his dealings with Kilbrook, and felt good about the 'verse. Zoe strode along next to him, her flame top moving in the breeze.

"Just waiting for you, Mal," Freya said, waiting for him in the cargo bay. "Business done?"

"Kilbrook's a happy man."

"And are we?"

"We were right, you know. Those papers were the land deeds to some of the most expensive real estate in town. And no-one's paid any rent in a long time. He's enjoying composing the letters as we speak."

"So the girls are wealthy?"

"Will be. And Inara?"

"I just spoke to her. She's happy to take them on."

"Did she laugh?" Mal asked.

"Only a lot."

"Great. I conjure we're gonna have some grand words when we drop the girls off."

"They'll do well there. She can teach them to be ladies and how to deal with people like you."

He put his arm around her waist. "Just so long as she don't encourage 'em to become Companions."

"I don't think she'd dare."

"Zo, get us ready to leave this mudball," Mal said, looking at his first mate.

"Yes sir." She smiled at them both then headed up the stairs to the bridge.

"And our cut?" Freya asked. "Do we, as Jayne pointed out, get a finder's fee?"

"It ain't ours, Frey. Never was. Reilly made that pretty clear. But there is the price of Casmir to take into account."

"And the bets."

"Bets?" He looked down into her brown eyes. "Who was betting?"

"Oh, just about everyone. Each way. Casmir came second, so we all did pretty well."

"So no-one needs paying this month?"

She laughed. "I think you'd have an argument about that from at least some members of the crew."

"I conjure you're probably right." He grinned and kissed her.

"So when do the girls see this cash?"

"Probably take a while, leastways according to Kilbrook. But give it a month or two, and they won't be needing for anything."

"Good," came a voice from outside the ship. Hil Dywer stood in the washed-out sunlight.

Mal glared at her, his hand on his gun. "You'd better leave, Hil. We did all the talking we're going to do."

"I'm not here for you," the woman said, pulling her brown coat around her. "I'm here for Honor."

"For …" He shook his head, "Ain't gonna happen."

"Yes it is." The girl walked up behind him, her bag in her hand. "I'm going with my mother."

Freya stepped forward. "Honor … what about your sisters?"

"The only thing I had in common with them was Reilly, and he's dead."

"But there's been arrangements made. Someone's gonna be looking after you -"

"I won't stay. Wherever it is, I won't stay. My mother will come and get me."

Hil nodded. "My baby, Mal. My daughter. And she's gonna be with me."

"You sure about this?" Mal asked Honor, ignoring the other woman. "'Cause I could get Jayne to tie you up and throw you in the hold until you come to your senses."

"As much as I might like that, and he certainly would, it doesn't change anything."

"And your share of the money? Kilbrook's handling it all, but … where'll he send it?"

Honor smiled, looking so much older than her seventeen years. "I'll let him know." She held out her hand. "Thank you for having me, Captain. And I won't forget you."

They shook, and she walked out of Serenity.

"Do you think time travel is possible?" Mal asked, watching as Hil Dwyer and her daughter walked away from the Firefly.

"What?" Freya glanced at him.

"There's just something about that girl that makes me wonder."

"You're thinking about Saffron."

"Same hair colour, same determination to get what she wants …" He shook his head. "It wouldn't surprise me somehow to hear, a ways down the line, that she's married a hell of a lot of men."

"I wouldn't go too far down that time travel route if I were you," Freya said, putting her arm around his waist. "Otherwise it could occur to you that you might have got yourself hitched to your stepdaughter …"

Mal turned to look at her in appalled wonder. "That's …"

"Don't worry about it." She pulled him towards the common area. "Pickett's given us another couple of days – what do you have on that man, anyway?"

Mal's lips twitched. "Have on him?"

"He's being awfully accommodating."

"Let's just say I don't think his wife would like to hear about the incident with the contortionist and the swagger stick."

"Really." Freya's eyes widened. "You're going to have to tell me that one. But, anyway, we can get the other girls to Inara's with time to spare."

"Are we ever gonna have a nice, easeful trip?" Mal asked, wrapping his arms around her and making her stand still.

"One day," Freya admitted. "And won't that be boring."

"I'd kinda like to try."

She snuggled a little closer. "There's something else I'd like to try right now, though."

He looked at her, at the mischief in her eyes. "You ain't allowed."

"There's other things I can do. Like …" She whispered in his ear.

His eyebrows raised. "Really."

"We're ready to go, Cap'n," Zoe said, reappearing on the catwalk.

He glanced up. "Where're the girls?"

"In the galley, sir. Kaylee's teaching them the finer points of cooking."

"All of them?"

"Even Bethany."

He grinned at Freya. "Close her up, would you? And tell that man of yours to get us off the ground."

"Lazarus?"

"Lazarus."

"And what are you planning on doing, sir?" Zoe asked as she descended the stairs.

"Taking a rest."

"Sir?"

"Captain's privilege, Zoe." He smiled at her and let Freya go ahead of him into the common area.

"Not to be disturbed, sir?"

"Not unless it's Reavers."

"Yes sir, captain." She smiled, stroking her belly as she watched him follow Freya towards their temporary quarters.


End file.
